


(i'm tired of) waiting for the right time

by gayornay



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Clexa, F/F, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Hook-Up, Rated m for a reason, because it can't be that simple, but nothing too terrible, just life getting in the way, kind of, the other characters are there just a little, very Clarke and Lexa heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:42:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 38,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayornay/pseuds/gayornay
Summary: Lexa and Clarke share a myriad of chance encounters, but it never seems to be at the right time. How long will they keep running into each other before life stops getting in the way?
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 119
Kudos: 484





	1. First Encounter

The sun is out, high and bright, on a nice and warm spring morning. Lexa squints, her eyes still too sensitive to the light after spending most of the night crying. She barely managed to get a couple of hours of sleep before her alarm woke her up.

She wishes she hadn’t forgotten her sunglasses, the image of the dark shades sitting on the table by the door in her dorm mocking her. She could use them right about now, in part to block the irritating sun, but mostly to avoid her friend’s judging look without restraint.

“It’s been three weeks,” Anya, her best friend, tells her as if she didn’t know this already. Lexa rolls her eyes in response.

(It’s actually been twenty-three days and fourteen hours, but she’s not going to correct her).

“You need to give this up,” Anya continues, motioning at Lexa’s entire being as they walk side by side in the direction of Anya’s car, which is currently parked a few yards away. “You need to go out, clear your head and move on.”

Lexa shakes her head, pulling her bag by its straps so it sits more firmly against her shoulder. “I’m good, thanks.”

“I know it sounded like a suggestion, but honestly, I’m making you,” Anya informs her. She’s always been extremely headstrong, but Lexa is no push over.

“You can’t make me, Anya,” Lexa says, rolling her eyes for what feels like the tenth time today. See? If she had her sunglasses no one would know that.

Anya sighs. “It’s like you’ve just met me. Of course I can make you. In fact, that’s what I’m going to do unless you willingly go out tonight. Come on,” she says, bumping her shoulder against Lexa’s. “It’ll be fun.”

A deeper sigh. “Anya. Look, I appreciate it, but I really don’t want to. I don’t feel like going out and partying and dancing and getting drunk. All I feel like is–“

“Lying on your bed, blasting depressing as fuck songs and crying your eyes out. Yes. I know. How do I know this, you may ask? Because that’s all you’ve been doing for the past three weeks, Lexa.” A beat. “Three weeks!”

_ Twenty-three days _ , Lexa repeats in her mind.

She opens her mouth to protest, but quickly shuts it. Anya isn’t wrong. That  _ is _ all she’s been doing. And if she didn’t have to attend class that’s probably the  _ only _ thing she would do.

The sound of Anya’s car unlocking brings her back to their conversation, and she’s ready to keep pushing back as they approach the yellow Mustang.

“What do you expect from me?” Lexa asks over the roof of the car before getting in. The interior is warm from sitting under the California sun all morning and Lexa waits until Anya turns the engine on to close the door, immediately rolling down the passenger side window.

Lexa turns to look out the window before adding, “I really thought she was gonna be it for me.” The thought makes her chest feel tight and she has to take a deep breath to ease the pain.

Anya sighs. It’s not an exasperated sigh though, Lexa realizes when she looks over to the driver’s seat. Her friend is looking at her with affection, something Lexa isn’t used to. “Look, you know I don’t believe in soulmates and all that stupid shit, but,” she takes a deep breath, as if getting through the next sentence is the hardest thing she’s ever had to do. “If Costia wasn’t it for you, then I’m sure there’s someone else out there who will be.”

Lexa stares ahead as she contemplates Anya’s words. She falls silent, consumed by her own thoughts. Rationally speaking she knows Anya is right. If Costia was the person she’s supposed to spend the rest of her life with then they would still be together… but what if Lexa drew them apart? What if she could have done things differently?

_ “I can’t do this anymore, Lex.” _

The conversation replays in her head. She didn’t even get a face-to-face break up, just a phone call with a string of reasons why they couldn’t make it work anymore. Distance. Time. Things change. Lexa had thought nothing was impossible, not for them. They had endured so much together already, but apparently all of that meant nothing.

_ “I love you, okay? I love you, but I– I’m sorry.” _

She doesn’t know how long she sat with her phone tightly pressed against her ear, the sound of the dead line repeatedly beating against it. All she remembers is Anya walking in hours later to find a tear-stricken Lexa looking at her phone, a picture of her and Costia staring back at her.

“So,” Anya’s voice brings Lexa back to the present. “We are going out.” It’s a statement. Resolute. “Because moping and feeling sorry for yourself clearly isn’t helping.”

“And going out will?” Lexa asks. She knows it won’t. Nothing will.

“Only one way to find out,” Anya replies, a sympathetic smile on her face.

“Ugh, stop being so nice to me,” Lexa says, feigning a shiver. “It’s creeping me out.”

“Oh, yeah. Don’t get used to it. I’m sick of it, too.”

::::

There are few people in this world who can make Lexa do something she doesn’t really want to. Unfortunately for her, Anya is one of them. So despite Lexa’s conviction that going out will do absolutely nothing to make her feel better, she finds herself walking through the doors of Polis a few hours later.

The loud music is jarring, the place overcrowded and it looks exactly like what you would expect from a bar that’s mostly frequented by college students. Lexa had heard of this place before, but had never been. It’s several miles out of their way, which she assumes is the exact reason why Anya picked it. She must have known any place closer to campus would evoque too many memories of Costia and their time together before she decided to transfer schools.

Lexa sighs. As suspected, being here isn’t enough to stop her brain from thinking about her girlfriend.

_ Ex-girlfriend _ , her brain reminds her.

She’s still not used to it.

“Why did I agree to this again?” Lexa asks, resigned. She looks around, trying to find a secluded corner to spend the rest of the night in. Maybe that will be enough to get Anya off her back.

“Hm. Technically you didn’t,” Anya acknowledges, leaving it at that. They’re both well aware Lexa would’ve stayed home if Anya hadn’t insisted as much as she did. “Come on, let’s get you something to relax,” Anya says then, reaching for Lexa’s hand and dragging her further into the building, pushing past the dancefloor.

“I told you I don’t want to get drunk,” Lexa says as soon as she realizes she’s being pulled directly toward the bar.

“No one said anything about getting drunk. Just a drink or two.”

A large crowd is gathered around the bar, nudging each other while trying to get the bartender’s attention. Anya pushes her way through, making sure Lexa is closely behind until they reach the front of the line. From there, Lexa sees only one guy behind the bar and wonders how he’s managing all the orders by himself on a busy night like tonight.

“Hey,” Anya calls out to the bartender who is currently taking someone else’s order a couple of places down. “One pale ale and a stout.”

Either the bar is too loud and the bartender didn’t hear her or he is flat out ignoring her. Either way, Lexa can see this is irritating Anya if the way her shoulders tense is anything to go by.

“Hey,” she repeats, this time slapping the bar top a couple of times. “Right here!”

The bartender walks right past them toward the other end of the bar and Anya sighs, rolling her eyes. Her patience is starting to run out.

“Yo!” she yells, but is completely ignored. Again. “I swear to God I’m gonna–“

“Watch,” someone says from beside them. Lexa turns to her left and sees a brunette of about her same height smiling at them before she turns around. The bartender walks past them once again, but stops right in front of her. “Hey, can I get a rum and coke and–” she turns to them, eyebrows raised.

“A pale ale and a stout,” Anya tells her, and Lexa can’t help but laugh at the scowl on her face.

“Coming right up,” the bartender says, turning around to grab their drinks.

“How did you–”

The girl smiles. “Very old trick, you see. All you have to do is…” she trails off, leaning closer to them and looking around, as if conspiring.

Both Lexa and Anya look at her, unconsciously leaning forward as well, as if discovering how to order drinks at an overcrowded bar is like learning where the treasure chest containing all the riches in the world has been hiding this whole time.

Instead of revealing some long-lost answer, the girl throws her head back and laughs. Then, she says, “Just kidding. He’s a friend, his name is Monty and we go to school together.”

Lexa laughs, but Anya just rolls her eyes. “Very clever.”

“Yeah. Works like a charm, every time,” she extends her right hand. “I’m Raven, by the way.”

“Lexa,” she says, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

In true Anya fashion, all her friend does is look at Raven and nod her head. “Anya.”

“Ladies, your drinks,” Monty interrupts, placing three glasses in front of them before making his way toward his next customer.

Lexa grabs the lightest of the two beers and nods in Raven’s direction. “Thanks for the help.”

“Not that we needed it,” Anya mutters and Raven just chuckles. Lexa stands there, observing the power dynamic unfolding in front of her. She rarely gets to meet someone who can match Anya, but whenever she does she is always happy to sit back and enjoy the show.

“Right. Well, if you guys also don’t need help finding a place to sit, we found a pretty big table and you’re more than welcome to join us,” she says as she turns around, walking away from the bar.

Lexa and Anya share a look before shrugging and following Raven toward the back corner until they reach a round table. Once they are close enough Lexa notices there’s another girl already sitting on the booth that curves around it.

“I’m back!” Raven exclaims. “Also, I brought new friends,” she adds, pointing at Lexa and Anya.

She wasn’t expecting to socialize tonight, assumed she would just sulk in a corner while Anya gave her shit for not being over her four-year relationship already, but maybe this won’t be too bad. Maybe talking to other people and getting out of her head is exactly what she needs.

“Of course you did. Am I not enough for you, Rae?” the girl by the table says, tongue-in-cheek.

Raven laughs as she slides into the booth, placing her drink right in front of her. “Of course you are, Princess. You are all I’ll ever need,” she says. Raven rests an arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer to kiss the top of her head.

“Well, come join us,” the other girl says, flashing them a smile and Lexa finds herself rooted to the spot. Her smile is bright, her eyes are shining and they are blue like the sky, blonde hair loose just slightly below her shoulders and she’s just– Lexa gulps. She’s pretty.

Very pretty.

“Come on,” Anya whispers, an elbow colliding with her ribs. “Stop being gay and sit down.”

“I– what–” she tries to protest, but there’s no point. Anya just chuckles before giving her a little push toward the table. Lexa sits down and slides closer to the middle so Anya can sit down next to her.

“I’m Clarke,” the blonde says, waving at them.

“Anya,” she waves back. “And this is my friend, Lexa.”

Lexa thinks she hears Anya put special emphasis on the word friend, but thinks nothing of it. Instead, she brings her glass of beer up to her lips for the first time, taking a small sip of the beer Anya had ordered for her. It’s fruity, a bit sweeter than what she’s used to, but it’s still good.

“Nice to meet you, Anya. Lexa,” Clarke’s eyes twinkle and Lexa looks away quickly, afraid she will get caught staring into them for too long.

“You guys come here a lot?” Raven asks from beside Clarke, leaning close to her so she can be heard. There’s a certain familiarity to their interaction, like they’ve known each other for a long time, and it makes Lexa wonder if they’re together.

Lexa ignores the sense of disappointment she feels at the thought.

Lexa shrugs as Anya replies. “From time to time, but not too often. This one here isn’t much into this kind of thing.”

It’s true. Lexa has gone to her fair share of bars ever since she started college with both Costia and Anya, but it’s not really her preference. When asked she will most likely always pick staying home instead.

“What’s the occasion then?” Clarke asks, and it’s such an innocent question, but it’s just another reminder of everything she’s been trying to avoid thinking about tonight.

Nothing seems to be good enough to stop her mind from going back to Costia and their failed relationship. Not going out, not having something to drink, apparently not even meeting new people.

“Nothing,” Lexa replies and she knows it comes out rude by the way Clarke seems taken aback, but she can’t bring herself to apologize. This is exactly why she wanted to stay home. If her brain won’t shut Costia out, she would much rather be in the confines of her own bedroom where she can just wallow in self-pity.

“She recently got broken up with,” Anya explains and Lexa shoots her a look. “Her girlfriend of four years just ended things a couple of weeks ago.”

Lexa elbows her friend and glares. She can’t believe Anya just told her story to complete strangers. It’s none of their business and she honestly doesn’t want to get into it.

“Man, that sucks.”

“Four years, huh? Ouch.”

Yeah. Ouch sounds about right.

Lexa doesn’t reply, because what is she supposed to say? That it will be okay? That it doesn’t matter? None of that is true, so she just sits there and stares at her glass of beer, which is now halfway gone. So much for going out to have fun tonight.

She contemplates drinking the rest of it in one gulp.

“Well, at least we have each other, right?” Raven says, trying to lighten up the mood. “To being single!” she adds, raising her glass, followed by Clarke and Anya. Lexa reluctantly raises her glass too.

“To being single!”

::::

They sit around the table sharing random stories for the next twenty or so minutes. They mostly consist of Raven’s mishaps and how she has managed to almost blow up her college’s chemistry lab on more than one occasion. They sit there, laughing at her detailed descriptions and the further the beer in her glass disappears, the more Lexa finds herself enjoying the company of the other two women.

She brings the glass to her lips once more only to realize it’s pretty much gone. She looks around the table, noticing everyone has all but finished their own drinks as well. Raven seems to follow Lexa’s train of thought, because it only takes her an extra second to offer to go grab another round for all of them.

Next thing she knows Anya is offering to help her and Lexa raises her eyebrows at her. Anya, ever the cryptic, only responds with a pointed look, nods her head toward the girl sitting next to her and then turns around to follow Raven in the direction of the bar.

“They seem to be getting along,” Clarke says from beside her. Lexa turns her head in her direction, forgetting she hasn’t really moved since they were all sitting at the table, so she is way closer than she needs to be. She scoots back an inch or two.

“Yeah. It’s weird,” Lexa finally replies, the space between them allowing her brain to function as it should. She doesn’t know if it’s the one glass of beer she’s had finally kicking in or what, but suddenly she is very aware of Clarke’s proximity.

“Weird how?” Clarke’s inquisitive look is captivating.

“It just– it doesn’t happen very often, is all.” Even though Anya knows a lot of people she rarely gets along with anyone the way she does with Lexa. Or the way humans do with other people in general.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Clarke asks and Lexa smiles a little.

“We met years ago. She lived a couple of houses down the block and we used to play together. She’s a few years older than me, but we’ve managed to stay friends,” she says. Say whatever you want about Anya, she can be a cold-hearted bitch sometimes, but no one has ever cared more about Lexa than Anya. Except for Costia– Well. She supposes that’s not really true anymore

“How about you?” Lexa asks before her thoughts can go down that rabbit hole again. She has finally managed to push them out of her head long enough to start enjoying herself. “How did you and Raven meet?”

“Long story short, we met through Monty. My parent’s knew his parents, so I had seen him a couple of times. We saw each other again after I started college and we began spending time together. Raven and him are in the same classes and we all kind of started hanging out together.”

“You guys seem pretty close,” Lexa mentions, trying to sound casual. She’s not trying to pry, but she can’t ignore the pet names and how comfortable they seem around each other.

Clarke laughs. “Yeah, that’s Raven for you. The first time we met she probably hit on me like, ten different times.”

Lexa’s pulse rushes. Does that mean– “So you…” she trails off. She doesn’t know how to ask. It’s none of her business, really.

“No,” Clarke answers right away, apparently knowing what Lexa meant to ask. “Not that I didn’t think about it.” Well. That answers that question. “It just didn’t happen and then we became friends, so,” she shrugs. “Her loss,” she adds with a laugh and Lexa’s heart feels like it’s about to jump out of her chest. She doesn’t know what it is about Clarke’s laugh, but it makes Lexa’s world spin around.

She blinks a couple of times because this, whatever this thing she is feeling is, is new and weird and, honestly? She had never felt this way. Not about someone she had just met. With Costia –she can’t help but compare it to her– it had been gradual and slow. Weeks and months of just hanging out and slowly realizing her heart beat a little faster when Costia’s name appeared on her phone’s screen. It was never like this, so sudden, so intense.

This is ridiculous. She just broke up with her girlfriend of four years. Whatever her body’s reaction to Clarke is, it’s just because she is someone different and she is listening like she cares and is smiling at Lexa like she understands and… and…

“So, what are you going to school for?” Lexa asks, a desperate attempt to get away from her thoughts and try to find the flaws she’s sure the blonde is hiding somewhere behind those beautiful eyes and bright smile.

“Going to be a doctor someday.”

Ah, fuck. Wanting to help people is definitely a flaw, right? Right?

“You?” Clarke asks, scooting closer ever so slightly. Clarke has turned her body to fully look at Lexa, one leg resting on the booth and the only thing separating them. Her eyes travel down Clarke’s face, following her neck and landing on the very low-cut shirt Clarke is wearing.

It’s not the first time Lexa has noticed the way Clarke’s outfit hugs her figure in all the right places, but it’s the first time she allows herself to openly appreciate it.

“Lawyer,” Lexa croaks, snapping her eyes back up only to find Clarke contemplating her, a slight tilt to her head.

“Nice,” Clarke offers. Bites her lip. “Going to put some bad guys behind bars one day?”

“I’ll try my hardest,” Lexa replies and are they flirting? She hasn’t done this in so long, she doesn’t even know anymore. But if they are, she must admit she doesn’t mind.

“Would you…” Clarke looks down at her glass, still empty thanks to Raven and Anya who have apparently decided not to return to the table. She looks up at Lexa again, almost as if she has found the courage she needed to ask whatever comes next. “Would you like to dance?”

Clarke is smiling, her eyes beaming and Lexa’s heart is beating impossibly fast, but how could she say yes, she– “I’m a horrible dancer,” she answers. It’s a lame excuse, but it’s true.

“It’s okay,” Clarke says, leaning closer. “So am I,” she whispers into her ear and let’s face it, Lexa never stood a chance to say no.

::::

She lied.

She fucking lied.

“You lied,” Lexa states after an audible gulp. Her cheeks are flushed red and she thanks the powers above that Clarke is currently facing the opposite way, although that brings her back to the reason why she is blushing.

“About what?” Clarke asks over her shoulder, loud enough for Lexa to hear her over the music. She moves against Lexa, her back rubbing against Lexa’s front.

This girl is going to be the death of her.

“You definitely know how to dance,” Lexa states the obvious, just as loud, even though she knows the explanation is unnecessary. Lexa could hear the smile in her voice.

They have been dancing for the past ten minutes and it didn’t take long for Clarke to feel comfortable enough to start moving closer and closer to Lexa. And there’s no amount of drinks that can make Lexa relax when Clarke’s grinding against her like that.

As if on their own accord, Lexa’s hands find Clarke’s waist. She isn’t sure if it’s the few ounces of alcohol in her bloodstream or just her body responding to how good it feels, but she tightens her grip on Clarke and pulls her closer.

“You don’t seem to mind,” Clarke’s smirking and being cocky and Lexa doesn’t know what to do with this overwhelming need to  _ kiss _ her. Instead, she blushes, because apparently that’s all she knows how to do now. “You’re not a bad dancer yourself,” Clarke adds and now she’s turning in Lexa’s arms, placing her hands around her neck as she keeps moving to the beat.

Clarke is an inch or two shorter than Lexa and seems to fit perfectly against her. The need to feel her pressed up against her body wins over any shyness Lexa may feel at the moment, so she slides her arms around Clarke’s waist and brings her impossibly closer. She hears a small gasp escape Clarke’s lips at the movement and she can’t hide the smile forming on her own lips, a sudden jolt of confidence igniting her body.

“I guess if the motivation is right…” Lexa whispers into her ear, breathing in a mix of vanilla and coconut.

Clarke pulls back slightly, her eyes darker than mere seconds ago, searching Lexa’s. “Is that right?” Her voice is huskier, too. “What else can I motivate you to do?” Her gaze shifts to Lexa’s lips and fuck if she doesn’t imagine Clarke licking her lips as well.

“Jesus, Clarke…” Lexa can barely function right now. “Absolutely–“

The word  _ ‘anything’ _ dies on her mouth when they are suddenly interrupted by Raven, who grabs Clarke’s arm and pulls her away from Lexa.

“Clarke!” she is definitely more tipsy than she was the last time she saw her. “Clarke! We gotta dance.” Clarke and Lexa may not have gotten their next round of drinks, but Raven for sure did.

“Raven, I’m kinda in the middle of–“

“No, no,” Raven cuts her off, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You know the rules. It’s our song. We always dance to our song.”

Clarke seems to consider Raven’s words for a second before shooting Lexa an apologetic smile. “Sorry, kind of an old tradition… Do you mind?” Raven is already holding onto Clarke’s hands, ready to start dancing.

Lexa shakes her head, trying to mask her disappointment at being interrupted. “No, of course not. Go ahead,” she says and smiles despite the need to just scream because there’s a fire burning between her legs and she does not know what to do with herself now.

She stands there for a few seconds, balancing on the balls of her feet before deciding to go to the bathroom for a much needed cool down. Clarke’s too busy to notice, so she turns around without another word and heads toward the back of the bar where she remembers seeing the ‘Restrooms’ sign.

That’s where Clarke finds her five minutes later while she’s drying her face with a paper towel.

“There you are,” Clarke says as she approaches her, an almost predatory smile on her face. It makes Lexa’s knees go weak.

“Hey. You were looking for me?” She hates how lame she sounds, all confidence thrown out the window the minute she splashed her face with some cold water.

Clarke nods. “Anya said she saw you heading this way. Sorry about Raven, we have this thing,” she chuckles, her shoulder moving up and down in a dismissive shrug. “It’s stupid, but we always dance to that song. If she wasn’t so drunk she probably wouldn’t have interrupted us, but.”

“It’s fine,” Lexa offers with a smile. “I get it.”

“Kinda wish she hadn’t, though,” Clarke says softly. The same look from before is back and it makes Lexa’s blood head south.

So much for a cool down.

“O-oh, yeah?” Lexa involuntarily takes a step back as Clarke takes a step forward. She hadn’t noticed how close she was to the sink until her back hits it, her hands immediately resting on it for support.

“Yeah, I believe you were about to tell me other things I can motivate you to do,” her eyes travel to Lexa’s lips, her body mere inches away and Lexa can’t do anything but one thing.

She leans in to kiss her, one of her hands tangling in blonde locks as she pulls Clarke’s head toward her own. Their lips lock and she’s not sure who releases a moan, but she doesn’t care. All she cares about is the feeling of soft lips against her own and it’s not long before she feels a tongue asking for permission. She grants it because there’s nothing she wants more than to kiss, properly kiss, Clarke.

Clarke’s hands find purchase on her shirt, bringing Lexa to her as she starts taking steps back until they are inside a small bathroom stall. Lexa doesn’t know how they manage to fit in it, but they do and Clarke closes the door before pushing Lexa against it.

Her back meets it with a loud thud, and she groans.

“Sorry,” Clarke mumbles between kisses. She doesn’t sound sorry at all.

The kiss only intensifies from there. It’s desperate, like they can’t get enough of each other. Both of them are breathing heavy, chests heaving, wandering hands exploring untapped territory. Clarke’s fingertips graze her skin, right under her shirt and a shiver courses through Lexa’s entire body.

Nothing has ever felt like this.

Not even–

She doesn’t finish that thought. Instead, she focuses on Clarke’s exploring hands that have now inched further up. Her taut stomach clenches under Clarke’s touch, her hands both cold and hot against her skin. Clarke moves her lips to place open mouth kisses against her jaw. Then she starts nipping, licking.

Lexa looks up at the ceiling, giving Clarke more room to explore and she knows it was a good decision the minute she feels Clarke biting her neck. She moans, loud and desperate, not caring that she’s in a public restroom right now. All she cares about is the way Clarke’s lips, hands, body feel against her.

“Clarke… please…” the words sound foreign, her voice barely recognizable, dripping with desire and need.

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke murmurs against her neck. She slides her lips closer to her collarbone, digging her teeth along the way. Lexa’s hands have begun their own exploration, moving down to grip the other girl’s ass. Clarke lets out a small gasp, burying her face in Lexa’s neck. “I love the way you smell,” Clarke says as she inhales and it stops Lexa on her tracks.

A memory from last December invades her mind, the image of Costia and her walking hand in hand all Lexa can see. They were trying to find a gift for Costia’s mom, had entered a perfume shop and even though they hadn’t found what they were looking for, they had left the store with a small bag, carrying a cologne Costia had sworn smelled incredible on Lexa.

She had used it every day since.

Lexa snaps back to reality, the realization of what she’s doing, of what she was about to do hitting her like a bucket full of ice. She’s about to do it in a bathroom stall, with a girl she’s known for no more than a couple of hours, mere weeks after being broken up with. Her brain completely shuts down.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asks, stopping what she’s doing altogether and taking a step back. She’s looking at her with a frown. “Did I do something wrong?”

Lexa swallows hard and shakes her head. “No, I–“ she’s embarrassed. Doesn’t know how to explain that this is not who she is. That no matter how badly she wants it, she can’t. She just can’t. “I’m sorry.“

Somehow she’s able to maneuver around the bathroom stall and manages to open the door. She hears a faint “Lexa?” coming from Clarke just as she’s about to exit the bathroom, but she can’t bring herself to turn around, afraid of the look she’s going to find on Clarke’s face.

The rest of the night is a haze. She remembers walking by Anya, who immediately notices something is wrong. She remembers exiting the bar, Anya trailing right behind. She remembers Anya hailing a cab (she was in no condition to drive) and going home in complete silence. She remembers never wanting to speak of it again.

And Anya knew better than to push.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story shouldn't have too many chapters. I have a clear idea of where I'm going with it and what's going to happen next, so I'm hoping to finish it within the next month or so. Feel free to let me know what you think :)
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	2. Second Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks once again to my wonderful wife for taking the time to go over this chapter and help me fix it! She's the best.

Some pop song from the late 2000s plays faintly in the background as Lexa makes her way through narrow aisles, searching for the fitting room. A few hangers holding a couple of shirts and a bathing suit are dangling from her fingertips, her other hand holding her cellphone against her ear.

“Yeah, I’m just getting a few more things and then I’ll head home,” she says into the device. Her eyes scan her surroundings, finally spotting the sign she’s been looking for and heading to her right. “I definitely want to get a good night's sleep tonight.”

She lets out a soft sigh when she sees a short line leading into the dressing room. She just wants to try these on to decide if she will squeeze a couple more items into her luggage and be done with it. She doesn’t have time for this.

She’s only half-listening to what Anya is telling her, busy trying to look for the person in charge of sending customers into each stall. She thinks she’s imagining things when she spots what she thinks is a familiar face, but she does a double take anyway.

“Holy shit,” she whispers, almost dropping both her phone and the items in her other hand.

“_What_?” she hears Anya ask on the other end.

“I’m going to have to call you back,” she replies. She hears Anya ask if she’s okay, but she’s already halfway through hanging up. She hopes Anya hears her ‘_I’ll explain later_’ or she’ll never hear the end of it.

“Clarke?” she asks tentatively. She’s still not 100% sure it’s her standing at the front of the line, but her suspicion is confirmed when the blonde woman turns around and faces her completely.

It’s comical how big Clarke’s eyes get once she recognizes her and Lexa releases a breath she didn’t realize she was holding when Clarke smiles.

“No fucking way. Lexa?” It’s a question that doesn’t really require an answer, but Lexa nods anyway.

“Hey,” she says with a smile and a small nod.

“Hey yourself,” Clarke replies and steps aside, letting the woman behind her go in front so she can stand by Lexa. “It’s been a minute since I last saw you.”

_ More like a year and a half _, Lexa thinks but says nothing. Instead she takes in the person standing in front of her, her eyes traveling from top to bottom. She looks almost the same– her hair is shorter, but her eyes are as blue as she remembers and her smile just as bright.

“Getting ready for summer?” Clarke’s question pulls her away from her thoughts. When Lexa looks at her again Clarke is smirking, an eyebrow raised perfectly.

She’s been caught staring.

Old Lexa, the Lexa from a year or so ago, would have blushed and been embarrassed. Present Lexa, however, is way past that; she’s no longer ashamed to openly admire someone she finds attractive.

“Something like that,” Lexa replies.

“I always figured you were the organized type.”

“You’ve wondered about me?” Lexa leans back a little, arms crossed over her chest, amused.

Clarke shrugs, trying to seem nonchalant. She fails when she doesn’t meet Lexa’s gaze. “Not really.”

Lexa smiles. She knows that’s a lie and is about to acknowledge it when someone clears their throat, bringing her attention back to her surroundings. The employee is waiting for Clarke to hang her clothes so she can count them and give her a numbered tag.

“Sorry,” Clarke mutters as she places three hangers on the rack. The lady just nods and hands her her clothes and a tag with the number three on it. “I gotta…” Clarke trails off, pointing towards the stalls.

What is it about her and Clarke and stalls?

“Right, of course,” Lexa says, hoping she doesn’t sound as disappointed as she feels. She watches Clarke disappear around the corner and places her own items on the hanger, waiting for the next spot to become available.

She decides to look at her phone then, trying to find something to keep her distracted. Maybe she can manage to slow down her heartbeat, the same one that had decided to skyrocket as soon as she realized it was actually Clarke standing just a few feet away from her.

She unlocks the screen only to find a couple of messages from Anya.

**Anya [5:57pm]:** _What was that about?_

**Anya [5:59pm]:** _You better have a damn good excuse to have hung up on me like that_

Lexa smirks, she has a damn good reason alright.

**Lexa [6:03pm]:** _You won’t believe who I just bumped into._

It doesn’t take long before she gets a reply.

**Anya [6:03pm]:** _Who?_

**Lexa [6:04pm]:** _Clarke._

**Anya [6:04pm]:** _Seriously? Clarke from the bar Clarke?_

**Lexa [6:04pm]:** _Yeah. Bumped into her while waiting to try stuff on._

**Anya [6:04pm]:** _What the hell are you doing texting me, then? Go talk to her!_

**Lexa [6:05pm]:** _She went into the dressing room. And I’m still waiting for my turn._

She pockets her phone as soon as she sees someone exit, bouncing on the ball of her feet like a little kid waiting to open their first Christmas present. She tries not to tap her fingers against her leg while she waits for her numbered tag, grabbing her clothes and heading in immediately after she’s handed one. She walks toward the end of the hall, looking for an empty stall until she finds one.

She’s in there for a few minutes, trying on the bikini she had picked, her mind racing. Clarke is currently standing somewhere in this fitting room and Lexa doesn’t know what to do. Should she call her name? Hurry and wait for her outside? She doesn’t want to just stand there and look like a creep.

She had only seen Clarke once in her life, it’s not like they are old friends who can just catch up. There’s nothing to catch up on. They barely know each other. Yet, her heart is beating fast and she’s trying her best to hurry so maybe there’s a slight chance she’ll exit at the same time Clarke does.

“Lexa?” Clarke’s voice interrupts her thoughts.

“Yeah?” she calls out, pulling her bra straps up her arms so she can finish getting dressed. The bikini had been a good fit and she decides she’s going to buy it.

“Could you come out for a second? I need a second opinion.”

Lexa smiles, excited to find out she’s not the only one trying to find excuses to stick around a little bit longer. “Yeah, just give me a second,” she pulls her shirt over her head, unlocking the door right after. She’s not wasting any more precious time.

She stands in the middle of the hall for a few seconds, trying to figure out where Clarke’s voice came from. She finds out her answer soon enough when Clarke opens the door to the stall right in front of her own.

She freezes in place as soon as her eyes land on the other woman. She had noticed she had been holding a couple of sweaters– turns out one of those items was not a sweater, but a very, very short dress.

_ Fuck_.

“Uh…” Lexa stammers, scrambling for words. She thought she was over this. Done with the whole shy, easily embarrassed Lexa from years ago. Turns out no amount of experience could have prepared her for what’s standing in front of her.

“What do you think?” Clarke asks, rotating her body so Lexa can have a full view. The glint in her eyes tells Lexa she already knows exactly what she thinks.

Lexa unabashedly runs her eyes over Clarke’s body. She’s wearing a black, tight dress that barely covers her ass. And that’s not even the best part: as Lexa’s eyes travel north she discovers curves and a plunging neckline. Lexa can’t help but stand there and stare.

She only snaps out of it when Clarke clears her throat, green eyes immediately coming back up to look into blue. A darker shade of blue, Lexa notices.

“I… hm,” Lexa’s mouth is dry and she has to swallow before continuing. “You look absolutely stunning,” she says and she means it. Clarke beams and Lexa’s heart skips a beat.

She is so dead. She has so much to do tonight, needs to go home and have an early night. Instead, all she wants to do is be with Clarke.

“You think?” Clarke asks as if Lexa’s entire reaction didn’t reaffirm what she just said. But her question seems genuine if the light shade of pink on Clarke’s cheeks is anything to go by and Lexa doesn’t understand how she can look so incredibly hot, but also as cute as a bunny at the same time. It’s making her insides turn upside down.

“Definitely,” Lexa assures her with an enthusiastic nod. Clarke gives her a grateful smile. “So,” she says tentatively. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Just wanted to have something nice next time I go out,” Clarke explains and Lexa can’t help but picture Clarke dancing in that dress, the same way she did with her. “So, you approve?”

Lexa can’t do anything else but nod.

“Awesome. I’ll take it then,” Clarke says, reaching for the stall door.

“Hey, Clarke?” Lexa asks before she can stop herself. Her brain is telling her to shut up, but absolutely every other part of her body is telling her to do it. Just do it.

Clarke arches a brow. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing after this?”

Clarke smiles, her eyes lowering to Lexa’s lips before meeting her eyes again. “Whatever you want,” her voice is huskier than usual and it sends a shiver down Lexa’s spine. Clarke begins closing the door, Lexa involuntarily leaning to the side as she does, keeping her eyes trained on Clarke’s body as long as possible. She catches Clarke’s knowing smirk right before she disappears behind the door, leaving Lexa standing there, wishing Clarke would just stay in that dress.

::::

They end up in a small coffee house a couple of blocks away. The cold wind had hit their faces as soon as they had walked out of the store, and coffee sounded like the perfect way to warm up.

After getting their coffees –Clarke likes hers sweet, Lexa notices– they head to a secluded corner, each sitting down on a leather sofa. Lexa places her coffee down on the small table that sits between them, while Clarke starts blowing softly into her own cup.

“What a small world,” Clarke comments between puffs of air. “I can’t believe we ran into each other after all this time.”

Lexa smiles, reaching for her own cup of coffee, mostly to have something to do with her hands. “I know… I–” she stops herself, unsure whether she should say what’s coming next. She decides to go for it. She doesn’t have time to waste by playing pretend. “I had kind of given up on the idea that I would see you again,” she admits.

“You wanted to see me again?” Clarke sounds surprised.

“Of course,” there’s no room for hesitation.

Clarke rewards her honesty with a breathtaking smile. Still, she says, “I thought– after the way you left–”

Lexa laughs, mostly at herself. “Oh, God. I know. Don’t even remind me,” not like she actually needs reminding. She has thought about that night enough times to be embarrassed for a lifetime.

“I shouldn’t have–”

“No,” Lexa interrupts her. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“You bolting out of that bathroom and leaving the bar completely says otherwise,” Clarke replies with a smile. She doesn’t sound upset or bitter about it, just playful.

Lexa covers her face with her hands. “I know. I’ve regretted that night so many times,” dragging her hands down her face, Lexa sees Clarke’s no longer smiling and realizes right away how bad it sounded. “No, no,” she says in a panic, reaching over to put a hand on Clarke’s knee. “That’s not what I meant, I–“ she sighs, hating how flustered she gets when it comes to Clarke. “I regret leaving. I wish I hadn’t just ran away,” she explains, suddenly very aware of the hand she had placed on Clarke. She slowly removes it, setting it back on her lap instead.

“I did get a bit carried away,” Clarke says, smile back on her lips. Lexa lets out a sigh of relief.

“We both did,” Lexa replies, remembering the feeling of Clarke pressed against her, how smooth she felt under her fingertips, how good it felt to kiss her, how much she wanted to– She blushes, suddenly feeling very, very hot. She clears her throat, shakes her head, hoping it will also shake her thoughts away. “Anyway,” she says, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction.

“So… you don’t regret what happened?” Clarke asks, completely missing Lexa’s queue. Probably on purpose.

“Nothing except leaving,” Lexa confesses softly.

Lexa’s eyes follow Clarke’s throat as it bobs. “I regret scaring you away,” she offers in return.

“You didn’t–“

“I could’ve been less aggressive,” Clarke laughs. “Take things a little bit slower.”

Lexa shrugs. She doesn’t know if that would have made a difference. She was in a bad place and probably not ready to hook up with anyone yet, no matter how slow they took things. “I was still trying to get over the fact that my girlfriend had just broken up with me. She was the only person I had ever been with… and as much as I would like to think things could’ve been different, it’s very likely they wouldn’t have been either way.”

Clarke nods, understanding. “Are you still?”

Lexa frowns, confused. “Am I still...?”

Clarke reaches over, placing her hand on Lexa’s thigh, sliding it down slowly until she reaches her knee. “Getting over your ex.”

Lexa smiles, leaning closer to Clarke. “I am, most definitely, way past getting over my ex,” she says, voice low. She catches Clarke’s sharp intake of breath, sees the way she draws in her bottom lip between her teeth and bites.

God, she wishes she could bite it instead.

Clarke leans forward until her face is next to Lexa’s. “That’s really good to know,” she whispers, her lips grazing Lexa’s ear and she has to do everything in her power to stop the whimper threatening to escape through her lips.

“Oh, y-yeah?” she can barely speak those two simple words.

“Mmhmm,” Clarke says. She moves away from Lexa, grabbing her empty cup and standing up.

“Where are you going?” Lexa asks, and she sounds so desperate, but she can’t be bothered to care.

“Back to my apartment.” A beat. “You coming?”

And God, she really hopes she will be.

::::

Turns out Clarke’s apartment is only five blocks away, so they walk in the cold. The warming effects of the coffee are long gone, but there’s something else keeping Lexa’s body warm, something boiling in the middle of her abdomen, building as they get closer and closer to their destination.

They walk mostly in silence, casting sideways glances at each other when they think the other isn’t looking. Lexa catches Clarke biting her lip again and it takes all the willpower in the world to not pull her aside and just kiss her against the nearest wall. But she waits. She’s patient and she can wait.

Once they reach Clarke’s building, she opens the main gate and leads them up a flight of stairs. They take a left on the third floor to stand in front of a wooden door with the letters _ 3B _ nailed to it. Clarke looks through her bag until she finds her keys, unlocking the door before opening it and letting them inside.

“Do you want anything?” Clarke asks before heading into what Lexa assumes is her bedroom to put away her shopping bag. “I have wine, beer… some vodka and whiskey,” she faintly hears Clarke offer.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” Lexa teases, looking around the apartment. It’s relatively small, but it seems to have everything Clarke would need. 

“Hm, I don’t think I need to,” Clarke says with a smile, coming back into view. She moves into the kitchen next, opening the fridge. “Water, then?” she asks as she reaches into it.

Lexa nods, “That’s fine. Thanks.” Her eyes scan the room, noticing an easel sitting in the corner of the living room, a stool in front of it facing one of the windows. There’s a work in progress painted on the canvas, bright colors splashed all around the white fabric. “You paint?”

“When I have the time,” Clarke approaches the couch holding a glass of water and a beer bottle. Lexa thanks her, taking the glass from her, eyes trained on Clarke as she takes a seat on the couch. Lexa is still standing, and her attention goes back to the paintings currently hanging on the wall.

“Any of these yours?”

“Some of them,” Clarke says, and she suddenly sounds shy. Clarke’s looking at her bottle, scratching at the label. For someone who exudes so much confidence, it’s kind of surprising to see how self-conscious she’s being right now. It’s kind of adorable.

“What about this one?” Lexa asks, pointing at the big painting currently sitting above the TV. It’s her favorite. It’s dark, definitely darker than the one currently sitting on the easel, but it tells a story. A story of struggle and war and hard times.

“Yeah, that’s mine.”

“It’s…” she turns around to stop admiring it, choosing to admire the artist instead. “It’s amazing, Clarke.”

Clarke blushes and shrugs, dismissing the compliment. “It’s just a painting.”

Lexa frowns, walks towards the couch and sits down next to Clarke, turning to face her. “It’s more than just a painting, Clarke. It’s a work of art.”

Clarke’s blushing intensifies and Lexa would be proud of herself if she wasn’t so concerned about Clarke’s lack of awareness at how amazing her work is.

“It may be good, but it won’t pay the bills, so…” Clarke trails off, eyes still glued to the beer bottle she’s holding against her leg. Lexa understands there’s more to this than an artist being too critical of their own work.

“It doesn’t have to pay the bills for it to be real, Clarke,” Lexa says. The atmosphere has completely changed; it’s gone from playful and charged, to somber and serious. Under other circumstances Lexa would have minded, but right now she doesn’t really care. In fact, she’s enjoying getting to know Clarke more. She only wishes Clarke wouldn’t feel this way about her work.

Clarke sits in silence, avoiding Lexa’s inquisitive gaze.

“I’m sorry,” Lexa says.

“It’s not your fault,” Clarke says, looking at her for a split second before redirecting her eyes elsewhere.

“I know. But I know what it’s like to be told what you want to do is not good enough. And I’m sorry that’s happened to you.”

Clarke looks at Lexa with surprise. “Did you not want to become a lawyer?”

“I did. I just learned to ignore anyone who said I couldn’t be one,” she offers Clarke a small smile, which Clarke returns.

“Oh, mighty Lexa, please teach me your ways,” Clarke teases and Lexa laughs, shaking her head. Clarke’s shoulders finally loosen up and Lexa feels herself relaxing with her.

“Shut up,” she says, playfully pushing Clarke’s shoulder. The tension has lifted, the air has become lighter.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll be a great lawyer one day.”

“And I think you would be a great artist if you were to decide to pursue it.”

Clarke shrugs, “I think it’s a bit late for that,” she says. Continues before Lexa can interrupt. “Plus, it’s not like I don’t want to be a doctor. I do like the idea of being out there, helping people.”

“Well, then I hope you have enough time to do both,” Lexa says.

“Here’s to that,” Clarke says, raising her beer bottle and meeting Lexa’s glass with a cling. “Anyway, I’m sorry for the depressing subject.”

“Don’t be silly,” Lexa says. “I could hear you talk about absolutely anything, all day.”

“Are you always this charming?”

Lexa laughs, shrugs. “Only if it’s worth it,” she says with a wink. That draws a laugh out of Clarke. God, she could hear her laugh all day, too.

Clarke shakes her head, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “What happened to the Lexa I met years ago?” Clarke asks. “She would’ve stuttered at every turn.”

“She gained a bit more experience,” Lexa says. “Learned to not be afraid of pretty girls.”

“Damn,” Clarke says with a chuckle, a small blush coloring her cheeks. “You really have changed.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Hm,” Clarke pretends to think about it for a second and Lexa rolls her eyes at her. “I think I can get used to it.”

_ I could get used to you_, Lexa thinks. And it’s such a dangerous thought, because she’s in no position to do this. Whatever this is.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Clarke asks, reaching for the remote control. Lexa looks at her wrist, checking the time. Fuck. She should definitely be going home. There’s still so much–

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to impose. You probably have places to go, things to do,” Clarke says.

“No, no.” _ What are you doing? _ Lexa’s brain screams at her, but she doesn’t care. “I just wanted to know what time it was. I would love to watch a movie,” she shoots Clarke a reassuring smile and it only takes a second before Clarke nods, turning her attention to the TV.

They spend a few minutes browsing Netflix, Hulu and other streaming services trying to find something they may be interested in. 

“All these titles and nothing, absolutely nothing looks good,” Clarke says with a sigh, like she’s bored of scrolling already. “Here,” she says, handing Lexa the remote. “Just pick something, I’ll get some popcorn,” she says, getting up and heading toward the kitchen.

Lexa begins scrolling, not finding anything either. By the time Clarke is back with the popcorn she hasn’t decided on anything, so she just clicks on the first title she finds.

“Really?” Clarke asks. “I didn’t pin you for a rom-com type of girl,” she says with a smirk.

“Shut up and watch the movie, Clarke,” Lexa replies with an eye roll.

The sun has already set and the living room has begun to darken, but neither one gets up to turn a light on. Now the room is only illuminated by the flickering light coming from the TV.

At some point Clarke pulls a blanket from the side of the couch and lays it on top of their laps. It’s not a very big blanket, so she has to scoot closer so both of them are covered.

It feels nice, sitting here, watching a movie, Clarke sitting by her side. She seems to be way more invested in the movie than Lexa is. She is too distracted side-eyeing Clarke. She’s breathtakingly beautiful, just sitting on her couch, eating popcorn. Lexa smiles, resisting the urge to run her fingers through blonde hair.

“You’re not paying attention,” Clarke says softly, a smile playing on her lips.

“Am too,” Lexa counters, her eyes never leaving Clarke’s face. She is definitely paying attention, just not to the movie.

“Oh, yeah?” Clarke asks, turning to look at her, a challenging eyebrow perfectly in place. “Then tell me what just happened?”

Lexa freezes. She’s been caught. “Uhh…” she stammers, scrambling her brain for the answer. Honestly, the last thing she remembers is the opening credits.

Clarke laughs knowingly. “You picked it and you’re not even watching it,” Clarke says, shaking her head, eyes dancing.

“It’s not my fault you’re so distracting,” Lexa admits. Clarke’s still not used to Lexa’s unashamed attitude and seems to be taken aback by her honesty, quickly turning her head back to the TV. Lexa laughs and Clarke just swats her knee.

She tries to pay attention to the movie for the next twenty minutes or so, but her brain keeps telling her if she is going to spend the little time she has left in Clarke’s apartment, she might as well make the most of it.

But what if she’s wrong? What if she read Clarke wrong? She knows what she saw before, at the coffeeshop and when they first arrived at the apartment, but since then Clarke hasn’t really given her any signals. Maybe she just changed her mind and all she wants to do now is hang out and watch something.

Her futile attempt to watch the movie is over quickly, her eyes back on Clarke. She’s watching her, trying to figure out what the other woman is thinking. It doesn’t take long for her to get distracted by Clarke’s profile. _ She’s gorgeous _, Lexa thinks, scanning Clarke’s face. She stops at her lips, remembering how soft they were and how incredible it felt to kiss Clarke.

Her eyes keep moving further down, looking at Clarke’s neck, wishing she could move in closer, run her tongue over Clarke’s pulse point, suck a little. Lexa swallows, tries to look away, but her eyes don’t listen and she finds herself looking at Clarke’s breasts. They felt so good pressed up against her.

Her breath catches in her throat. Did Clarke’s nipples just get– she gulps, head snapping back up. She’s met with Clarke sitting abnormally still, staring straight at the TV. Lexa notices Clarke’s chest rising and falling at a much more rapid pace. Her lips are parted, the tip of her tongue darting to lick her bottom lip.

_ Fuck_.

Lexa reaches for the bowl of popcorn, now halfway empty, and places it on the floor. Clarke turns to look at her, searching her face. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilated.

Lexa throws any doubt out the fucking window.

“Lexa…” Clarke says, eyes darting to her lips, this time not coming back up. Lexa swallows, the huskiness in Clarke’s voice sending blood rushing south.

“Shit,” Lexa whispers to no one in particular. There’s just something about the way Clarke is looking at her that makes her forget how to breathe, how to properly function.

Clarke’s eyes finally meet Lexa’s again. Desire is written all over them and Lexa can’t take it anymore, she wants one thing and one thing only.

She pushes the blanket out of the way and it lands on the floor, probably on top of the popcorn bowl. If she knocked it over she can’t be bothered to care. All she cares about is the way Clarke is looking at her every move, the way she draws her bottom lip in as she fully turns her body to meet hers just as Lexa leans in.

Clarke lets out the sweetest little sigh right before Lexa captures her lips with her own.

Kissing Clarke is everything she remembers it to be. Everything and then some. Clarke’s hands immediately find her hair, fingers entangling and pulling her closer. Lexa doesn’t need to be asked twice and soon enough is following Clarke, who is moving further down on the couch, Lexa on top of her.

They kiss, just kiss, for minutes until Lexa can’t take it anymore and has to feel more of her. She shifts her weight onto her left side, moving her right arm until her hand meets the hem of Clarke’s shirt. She slowly slides her hand under it, softly touching the spot right above her hip bone.

She feels Clarke shiver.

“Lexa,” Clarke breaks their kiss, resting her forehead against Lexa’s collarbone.

“Is everything okay?” Lexa asks in a second of panic.

“Yeah, yeah,” Clarke is still trying to catch her breath. She lifts her head up, looking at Lexa. She offers her a small, reassuring smile. “It’s just– if you run away again, Lexa…” her tone is threatening more than anything. A small laugh leaves Lexa’s lungs.

“I won’t,” she promises and then freezes. She won’t run tonight, but– Shit. “But,” she says and Clarke frowns.

“But what?”

“Um, I–“ she feels awkward bringing it up right now. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Clarke laughs, her hand absently running up and down Lexa’s left arm. The contact is barely there, but Lexa can feel the goosebumps taking over her skin. “Well, yeah. I’m not asking for commitment, Lexa,” Clarke says, still smiling.

“That’s not what I meant. I–“ she sighs. _ Get on with it _. “I probably should’ve mentioned something earlier, but, um,” she sits up. It feels weird to have this conversation while being an inch away from making out again. “I’m leaving tomorrow. The country. I’m leaving the country tomorrow.”

“What?” Clarke sits up too, surprised. Lexa is glad she moved, otherwise she’s sure they would’ve bumped heads and it wouldn’t have been pretty. “Like, forever?”

Lexa laughs, although she doesn’t actually think the situation is funny. “No. I’m going to study abroad.”

“Oh,” Clarke seems relieved. “How long?”

“A year,” Lexa says and braces herself for Clarke’s reaction. And she gets a reaction alright.

“A whole year?!” Lexa nods. “Fuck…”

Lexa swallows. “I’m sorry. I probably should’ve mentioned something earlier, it just didn’t really come up. And I guess part of me didn’t want to think about it either, because here you were, after all this time, and of course it had to be my damn luck that the night before I leave I bump into you,” she knows she’s rambling but she can’t seem to shut up.

“Hey,” Clarke stops her, places a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s not like you owe me an explanation.”

“I know I don’t owe you anything, but I should’ve said something.”

Clarke shrugs, moves her hand toward Lexa’s neck, placing her palm against it. “I guess that explains why you’re buying a bikini in the middle of February,” she starts playing with the hairs on the back of her neck, Lexa’s eyes fluttering close. She loves the way Clarke touches her. “It’s fine,” Clarke says quietly. Lexa opens her eyes again when she feels Clarke shift on the couch. “You’ll stay tonight?” Clarke asks and Lexa doesn’t even have to think about it. She nods right away.

“Then I better make the best out of it,” Clarke says, the predatory look in her eyes making Lexa’s knees go weak. She’s suddenly thankful to be sitting down on the couch.

::::

They move into the bedroom shortly after, the couch not offering enough room to move, to explore. Lexa wants to touch, feel, every single inch of Clarke’s body and the bed is a much better place to do so.

They stand in the middle of the room for a minute, Lexa’s eyes searching Clarke’s.

“Are you sure this is okay with you?”

“Lexa, this was okay with me the first time. It is more than okay with me now,” Clarke replies and those words put Lexa in motion. She takes a step forward, wrapping an arm around Clarke and pulling her closer. Clarke releases a small gasp and Lexa smirks.

“Don’t look so cocky,” Clarke warns, her hands pressed flat against Lexa’s chest.

“What if I have every right to be?” Lexa asks with a raised eyebrow.

“You haven’t proven yourself yet,” Clarke challenges.

“But I will,” Lexa says before leaning forward and capturing Clarke’s lips with her own. Enough talking.

Clarke’s hands travel up, linking behind Lexa’s neck, pulling her closer. Their bodies are flushed together and Lexa can’t get over how good it feels to have Clarke’s body pressed against her like that. It feels so good, but it could be so much better.

She keeps kissing Clarke, deepening it by pushing her tongue past parted lips. The kiss is rough, desperate, like they can’t get enough of each other. Lexa takes a step forward, forcing Clarke to take one back. It only takes a couple more before the back of Clarke’s legs hit her mattress and she sits down.

Clarke looks up at her like nobody else ever has, a hunger impossible to describe written all over her face. Lexa reaches for the bottom of her own shirt and pulls it up over her head, dropping it on the floor next to her. She enjoys the way Clarke’s eyes widen, taking in her body.

Clarke reaches for her own shirt, but Lexa stops her. “No,” she says firmly. She pushes her hands away and grabs the hem of her shirt. Clarke lifts her arms as Lexa pulls the piece of clothing up and off of her, letting it fall on the floor as well. Her eyes land on Clarke’s clad covered breasts and her breath hitches. She had gotten a glimpse of them when Clarke tried on her dress, but holy fuck…

“You’re beautiful,” Lexa manages to whisper and Clarke laughs.

“Are you talking to me or them?”

Lexa’s eyes fly up to meet Clarke’s. “You. Them. All of you,” she says. She gets down on her knees, moving her hands so they are now resting on Clarke’s thighs. She starts to slowly move them up, enjoying how attentively Clarke is watching her every move. She reaches the waistband of Clarke’s jeans, looking up at Clarke as her fingers find a lonely button.

“May I?”

“Stop asking for permission, Lexa, and fucking fuck me,” Clarke says breathlessly and fuck if that’s all the encouragement Lexa needs.

She works the button and zipper, pulling Clarke’s hands so she stands up until Lexa can slide her pants down. Her breath catches in her throat when she realizes Clarke isn’t wearing any underwear.

“Holy shit, Clarke,” Lexa whispers, her fingers reaching to graze bare skin, her eyes fixed on the woman standing in front of her.

“They are in my bag…” Clarke says, nodding toward the bag sitting on the floor. “I thought this is how we might end up.”

Something about knowing Clarke felt this was inevitable ignites a fire inside Lexa, a fire she didn’t even know existed. She reaches behind Clarke, resting her hands on Clarke’s ass, squeezing hard. Clarke lets out another gasp and Lexa discovers it’s one of her favorite sounds. She pulls Clarke closer until her lips can place kisses across her stomach, loving the way muscles tighten against them.

Lexa looks up from where she’s kneeling, sees Clarke’s intently looking down at her. She still has one more piece of clothing to get rid of. She starts kissing her way up, biting and nibbling at Clarke’s stomach until she’s standing. She reaches behind Clarke’s back, quickly finding her bra’s hook and just as quickly unhooking it.

She slides the offending piece of clothing down Clarke’s arms, discarding it with the rest of their clothes.

“Someone’s a little overdressed,” Clarke remarks, her hands traveling down Lexa’s sides until she finds her waistband. She hooks her hands under it and pulls down. Her pants and underwear are halfway down, currently resting on her knees when Clarke lets out a sharp breath.

“Fuck, Lexa,” Clarke says, barely audible. “You’re so fucking wet…”

Lexa looks down and sees her underwear completely ruined. She would be embarrassed if Clarke didn’t seem so turned on at the sight.

“It’s your fault,” Lexa says, wriggling her legs to get rid of her clothes until she is able to step away from them. “You and that damn dress…”

Clarke smiles, moving her hands to remove Lexa’s bra. “Oh, yeah? You liked it?”

“Liked it?” Lexa scoffs and adjusts so Clarke can completely discard her of her bra. Now they are both standing completely naked and Lexa can’t wait to feel Clarke’s body pressed against her own. “I wanted to take you right then and there.”

Before Clarke can respond, Lexa nudges her toward the bed until she falls back, blonde hair splaying on the bed, chest heaving. Lexa’s eyes darken at the sight, she doesn’t waste any more time before climbing over Clarke, hovering over her body as she lowers her head, catching a hard nipple between her lips.

Clarke moans the second her tongue pokes out to flick and it sends a jolt down between Lexa’s legs. It only encourages Lexa to suck on it harder. She cups her other breast with her hand, massaging it and loving the way Clarke’s back arches towards her touch. Her hips are rolling, begging for friction and Lexa is enjoying the chase far too much.

“Fuck, Lexa…” Clarke manages to whisper. “I need you,” she says, but Lexa ignores her, too busy touching and exploring.

She moves her mouth towards Clarke’s neck, kissing and licking and sucking. She really hopes Clarke doesn’t bruise easily –or that if she does, she has nowhere important to be tomorrow– because she’s sucking like never before and she’s sure it’s going to leave a mark.

Clarke’s moans get louder, her hands digging into Lexa’s back. She’s desperately bucking her hips, asking to be touched where she needs it the most. Lexa’s mouth moves up to take her earlobe into her mouth, sucking on it. The hand currently pinching one of her nipples –which provokes another gasp from Clarke– starts sliding down, slowly, toward Clarke’s center.

“Fuck, yeah, Lexa,” Clarke says in anticipation, spreading her legs, ready for her.

Lexa, however, is not ready for what she finds once her hand moves past short curls. “Holy shit,” she whispers into Clarke’s ear before pulling back to stare into deep blue eyes. “Clarke, you’re so…” she trails off, letting actions speak for themselves. She moves her finger past Clarke’s clit, down to her opening and up again.

“You weren’t the only one ready to do it right then and there,” Clarke says, one of her hands giving Lexa’s back a break as she slides it up towards her neck, finding some hair and grabbing it. “Now stop fucking teasing me and fuck me, Lexa,” Clarke says and Lexa about loses it.

All thoughts of teasing Clarke disappear and she’s soon going inside her, her middle finger easily slipping in.

“More,” Clarke pants and it’s all Lexa needs before she pushes a second digit inside her. Clarke tightens her grip on Lexa’s hair, pulling her head down to capture her lips in a passionate kiss, a kiss that leaves Lexa seeing stars, but she needs to focus. Focus on her rhythm as she pumps in and out of Clarke, matching the movement of her hips.

“Fuck, yes,” Clarke says the minute their lips separate, her eyes closed shut. Her head is leaning back, neck exposed, her hips rocking and Lexa can’t believe how incredibly lucky she is to have a second chance. To actually be able to fuck Clarke like this.

“Don’t stop, Lexa,” Clarke begs, her breathing getting rougher. “Please don’t stop.”

And Lexa has no intention of stopping until Clarke comes all over her. She adjusts her hand until her thumb is able to hit Clarke’s clit and she knows she must be close, because the muscles around her fingers are tightening more and more with each passing second, Clarke’s moans getting louder.

She keeps going, curling her fingers every time she pushes in. She starts to feel Clarke’s whole body stiffening, her eyes watching Clarke’s face as she bites her bottom lip and she knows it’ll only be seconds until Clarke comes.

When she does, it’s like nothing Lexa has ever seen. Clarke screams her name, drags her nails deep into her back, her whole body shaking as she comes down. And it lasts for several seconds, Clarke having trouble catching her breath, her chest moving up and down with each one, her eyes still closed.

Lexa leaves her fingers inside for a few seconds longer, enjoying the way the muscles still spasm around them. Then she slowly pulls them out, pulling a low, long moan from Clarke.

“Fuck,” is the first word Clarke manages to say. She’s thrown an arm over her head and she’s slowly opening her eyes, peering at Lexa. “That was…” she trails off and Lexa just smiles.

“I’m glad you thought so,” Lexa says and that cocky smile is back, but this time Clarke can’t say anything about it.

Clarke reaches for her face and brings her closer, their lips barely touching. “You’re not the only one who’s good at it, you know,” Clarke says.

“Oh yeah?” Lexa asks, a glint in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Clarke’s eyes darken immediately and Lexa doesn’t even know how it happens, but she’s suddenly on her back, Clarke on top of her. “You’re in for a ride,” Clarke says with a smirk and it’s so fucking sexy how confident she sounds.

Lexa is not prepared for what comes next: Clarke kisses her way down her stomach, paying short attention to her nipples before moving further down. Before Lexa can say anything Clarke’s lips are surrounding her clit and–

“Fuuuck,” Lexa lets out the second Clarke starts sucking. No one, absolutely no one has ever made her feel this way. Her hands move on their own accord when they find Clarke’s head, fingers tangling in her head as Clarke moves, absolutely devouring her.

Her hips buck, but Clarke uses her hands to hold her in place as she keeps sucking. Lexa is so close. So fucking close… until Clarke pulls away slightly and Lexa lets out a frustrated groan.

“Clarke,” Lexa warns, using her hands to push her head down.

She swears she hears Clarke snicker.

She opens her mouth to complain again, but a moan escapes instead when she feels Clarke’s tongue moving from the bottom of her slit all the way up and back down again.

“Shit,” Lexa whispers.

Not long after Clarke’s tongue is sliding back up, this time paying close attention to Lexa’s clit. And it feels so fucking good, the way it rubs against her, just the tip, gently, softly. Lexa needs more. So much more.

“More,” she moans, pushing Clarke’s head down.

Clarke doesn’t need to be told twice. Soon she’s surrounding her clit again and Lexa swears she’s died and is currently in heaven. All blood rushes between her legs and Lexa can’t think, feel anything except for Clarke’s tongue and lips and fuck, fuck, fuck she is going to come.

“Clarke, I’m–“ she doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before her orgasm hits her, her whole body shaking against Clarke’s face, against her mouth and tongue and she comes like never before.

She dares to peek down and sees Clarke lying between her legs, smiling at her proudly. Her chin is glistening with her own come and it just makes Lexa wet all over again.

“How’s that for proof?” Clarke asks and it starts a fire inside Lexa.

“I see you, and I raise you,” Lexa says before pulling Clarke up to kiss her, tasting herself on Clarke’s lips.

She’s nowhere near being done with her. This is just the start.

::::

Lexa wakes up with a start hours later. Sunlight has began creeping in through Clarke’s curtains and Lexa looks around in a panic. Her body feels tired, but her mind is racing at a hundred miles per hour. So is her heart.

What time is it?

Her eyes look around the room, momentarily getting distracted by the naked body lying beside her. Clarke is deeply asleep, her back to her. Lexa sighs, wishing she could run her hands over her back one more time, tangle her fingers through her hair. Kiss her. Blinking red numbers remind her of her task and she looks at the clock currently sitting on Clarke’s nightstand. 

It’s 6:38am.

_ Fuck! _

She needs to go home. She needs to finish packing. She needs to take a fucking shower and needs to get her ass to the airport. And her flight leaves in three and a half hours.

She quickly gets out of bed, finds her phone and requests a Lyft. Thankfully there’s one available three minutes away. That gives her enough time for her to gather her clothes and shopping bag, get dressed and be out the door by the time the car pulls in.

::::

It’s not until hours later, when she’s sitting in economy class about to take off that she finally has time to take a deep breath and relax.

That’s the moment she realizes she left without even leaving a note.

_ Fucking idiot. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Third Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has been reading and leaving comments so far. I really enjoy reading people's reactions to this story!
> 
> As per usual, thank you to my wife for taking the time to read this chapter through so it's actually presentable.
> 
> Enjoy!

“I really don’t think this is necessary,” Lexa says as Anya drives them through the afternoon traffic. It’s the middle of summer and the sun is still high up in the skies. Lexa really doesn’t want to waste time going to the doctor.

“I disagree,” Anya says as she looks over her shoulder before switching lanes.

“I told you I’m fine,” Lexa says, exasperated.

“Yes, you also said you were fine thirty minutes ago and now look at it.”

Lexa looks down at her hand. Okay. So yes, maybe her finger is a little bit swollen… but so what? It will go away. It just needs some ice.

“Listen to Anya,” Gustus says from the back seat.

“Great. I love it when you two are on the same page,” Lexa says with an eye roll. Her best friend and their beach volleyball coach being in agreement is exactly what she needs.

Not.

“The sooner we get that looked at and treated, the sooner we can start playing again,” Anya says. She turns her blinker on and makes a right turn. Lexa can see the hospital in the distance.

“That’s the thing, though. I don’t need treatment. It’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Lexa knows she is being stubborn, but she really didn’t want to leave early. They still had a couple of friendlies left to play.

“That’s what you said when you first hurt it and now it’s way worse, Lexa,” Gustus says, resting a hand on her shoulder. “We’re taking care of it.”

Lexa huffs and crosses her arms in front of her chest, wincing when her left pointer finger brushes against her right arm. Okay, maybe it does bothers her a little… but not enough to let either of them know they are right.

Anya pulls to the front of the hospital and lets both Lexa and Gustus out before driving away to find parking.

“You really didn’t have to come,” Lexa tells her coach. “I’m an adult, I can handle it.”

Gustus smiles, letting Lexa go through the doors first and following her to the reception desk where a nurse is standing by a computer. “That’s what I’m worried about.”

Lexa rolls her eyes in response before being addressed by the woman behind the desk. “Hi, how can I help you?”

“Hi. I need to see a doctor. I think I may have twisted my finger,” she says, lifting her hand and showing the finger to the nurse.

The nurse takes a quick look at it before nodding and handing her a clipboard and a pen.

“Here, please fill this in and return it to me once you’ve completed it. Do you have a preferred physician?” Lexa shakes her head. “That’s fine, we will assign you one.”

Gustus leads the way to the chairs and they sit down side by side. Lexa starts filling up her information in silence and is almost done by the time Anya finds them. She walks up to the desk and hands the clipboard back to the nurse. After being told they will call her name once a doctor becomes available Lexa walks back to where Anya and Gustus are sitting.

“You hungry?” Gustus asks and Lexa smiles. He acts like such a dad sometimes.

“I’m fine,” she says. “Thank you, though.”

Gustus nods in reply.

“Oh, sure. Nobody asks me if I’m hungry,” Anya grumbles and Lexa chuckles.

“You are not injured, Anya,” Gustus explains.

“Yeah, Anya,” Lexa mocks, laughing at the stink eye she gets from her best friend.

They wait in silence, watching whatever boring show is on TV until they finally call Lexa’s name.

“Miss Woods?” A different nurse has appeared from behind sliding doors.

“We’ll be waiting here,” Anya tells her and Lexa nods before getting up and heading towards the nurse.

“Good afternoon, Miss Woods. I see here you may have a fractured finger?” she asks while reading her chart.

“I think I just twisted it,” Lexa says, raising her hand and showing the nurse her –very swollen, very purple– finger.

“Hm,” the nurse hums. “We’ll see about that.”

The nurse directs her into one of the patient rooms, pointing at the chair right by the computer. Lexa takes a seat and goes through the motions while the nurse checks her vitals. Once she’s finished, she tells Lexa to make herself comfortable and informs her Doctor Griffin will be with her in a few minutes. She leaves, closing the door behind her. Lexa stares at the exam bed from her spot on the chair. She won’t sit on it. Really, her injury isn’t very serious.

A few minutes pass with Lexa idly looking around the room. Hospital rooms are so boring. There is absolutely nothing to keep her mind occupied while she waits for the doctor. Plain, white walls offer no stimuli whatsoever.

There’s a soft knock before the door opens and the doctor walks in.

“Hi,” she says, looking at the chart in her hands. “I’m Doctor Griffin,” she says, finally looking up at Lexa. “But you can call me Abby.”

Lexa nods in greeting. “I’m Lexa,” she replies.

“So it seems you’ve hurt your finger,” Abby says, pointing at the exam table. Lexa sighs, but stands up from her chair and walks over to the bed. She steps on the stool and sits on it.

“Yeah, I think I just bent it the wrong way,”

The Doctor nods, taking notes. “What were you doing?”

“Playing volleyball,” Lexa explains. “Beach volleyball,” she adds. Not that it matters.

The Doctor keeps writing. “And what happened?”

Lexa explains how she had jumped to try and block a shot, but the opponent beat her to the ball, hitting it downwards and hitting her left index finger.

“Did you feel anything?” Abby asks.

“At first I felt a sharp pain, but then it kind of went away and just started to tingle a little bit.”

“And you came right away? Did you ice it on your way here?”

Lexa’s cheeks redden. One thing was telling her teammate and coach she was fine and not to worry about it. Another one was admitting to her doctor that she had not, in fact, stopped right away. “Uh, I… I finished the match.”

At that the doctor stops scribbling. With brows furrowed she looks up at Lexa. “How long was that for?”

“Another twenty minutes or so…”

The Doctor lets out a sigh. “You may have made your injury a lot worse by doing that, Miss Woods,” she reprimands and Lexa feels like she’s eight again.

“I really don’t think it’s that bad. I just twisted it,” it feels like that’s the tenth time she’s said that. “I’m just here because my teammate and coach thought it would be best.”

“Well, you may want to thank them, because if they hadn’t brought you and you had kept playing you may have made your injury much, much worse,” the Doctor finishes writing some additional notes before finally looking up. “Now let me take a look,” she says, extending her hand.

Lexa shows her her left hand. Abby takes it delicately, turning it around to examine her finger from all angles. “Does it hurt when I turn it this way?” she asks and Lexa winces. “How about like this?” she moves it in different directions before stopping. Sadly only a few resulted in Lexa saying it didn’t hurt.

“I can’t be a hundred percent sure without an x-ray, but I’m willing to bet you’ve got yourself a fracture.”

Lexa sighs. She really, really didn’t want to be wrong about this one. “What does that mean?”

“I won’t be sure until I see the results,” the Doctor says, writing something down and handing her a slip. “Take this up to the fourth floor, to X-rays. There they’ll take a better look at your finger. Once they have the results, come back down to see me and we’ll discuss this in more detail.”

Lexa takes the piece of paper and nods. “Thank you, Doctor Griffin.”

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

Lexa hops off the bed and heads towards the door. Once outside she lets out a disappointed sigh. She stares at the piece of paper in her hand. She can’t believe she actually fractured her finger. Stupid Ontari, it was supposed to be just a friendly match.

“No fucking way.”

Lexa looks up, startled. She could recognize that voice anywhere. But it couldn’t be… could it?

She turns her head and sees no other than Clarke leaning against the wall, cellphone in one hand.

“Clarke?” she asks, feeling stupid because it’s so obviously Clarke.

“Oh, so you remember me?” Clarke asks and Lexa would freak out if it weren’t for the bright smile Clarke is giving her.

“Of course I rem–“

“Clarke?” Doctor Griffin walks out of the room, smiling when she sees Clarke. “I thought I heard your voice,” she does a double take when she sees Lexa standing there. “Did you need anything else, Miss Woods?”

Clarke turns to Lexa with a raised eyebrow and a smile. “Miss Woods, huh?” she returns her attention to Doctor Griffin. “No, mom. We were catching up.”

_ Mom? _

“Oh, you two know each other?” Abby asks with a smile. Clarke nods in reply and Lexa just blushes because… well, knowing each other is one way to put it. “What a small world.”

_ What a small world indeed. _

“Anyway,” Abby continues. “I wanted to tell you I’m running a little bit late. I still have a few other patients to go before I can take a break.”

Clarke nods. “That’s fine. I’ll be around, just text me when you’re done.”

“I will, honey,” Abby replies, then turns to Lexa. “Now go get that X-Ray so we can figure out a treatment.”

Lexa nods and Clarke waves her mom goodbye before they start walking back to the waiting room.

“X-Ray?” Clarke asks curiously. Lexa lifts her hand in reply, her finger has only gotten more swollen.

“Jesus, Lexa,” Clarke exclaims as they walk through the doors. “What the hell happened?”

Lexa’s about to reply when she’s interrupted by Anya.

“How did it go?” Anya asks as she approaches her, Gustus trailing behind her.

“It was fine…” Lexa says, not daring to look at them. “It’s just a small injury, should be fine in no time,” she lies. She doesn’t want to worry them until she has the results and knows the exact diagnosis.

“That is  _ not _ a small injury,” Clarke says from beside her and Lexa’s cheeks redden.

“Clarke!” she mutters under her breath, but it’s already too late. Anya and Gustus are looking at Clarke expectantly.

Anya does a double take, frowns and it doesn’t take long before– “Wait. Clarke?”

Clarke smiles. “Hey,” she says. “Anya, right?”

“Yeah, hi. What are…?” Anya trails off, clearly confused. “Where did you come from?” Lexa feels the need to apologize for her rude behavior, but Clarke just laughs.

“I’m here to meet my mom for lunch, and bumped into this one,” she explains, pointing at Lexa, “when she came out of the doctor’s office.”

Anya looks at both of them and then laughs. Just laughs. Clarke seems confused at her reaction, Lexa just shakes her head. “Never mind her. She’s crazy,” Lexa says while redirecting her attention to Gustus. “This is Gustus, my coach.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says with a kind smile.

“So, what did the doctor say?” Anya asks then, no longer laughing. Her eyes travel tentatively to Lexa’s finger and she knows her friend’s still concerned about her injury.

Lexa shrugs. “Not much. I have to get some X-Rays and then bring them back so she can take a look and tell me exactly what’s going on.”

Anya nods, turns her attention to Clarke. “Since she won’t tell me the truth, what do you think? You’re a doctor, right?”

Clarke laughs, pushing a strand of her behind her ear. She seems a little bit embarrassed, Lexa’s unsure if it’s because Anya assumed she was already a doctor or because Anya knows anything about her at all (which means Lexa has talked about her). “Not yet, I’m in med-school right now.”

Lexa looks at her and smiles. It’s been a few years since they last saw each other and she’s happy to see Clarke’s life is turning out to be the way she wanted it.

“Do you know enough to tell me whatever she’s not?” Anya asks and Clarke nods. Lexa elbows her, but that doesn’t stop her.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s a fracture. Which means she will have to have her finger immobilized for at least a month and then full rest for an extra two weeks, give or take.”

“Clarke!” Lexa complains again. “Whatever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” she asks with a huff.

Clarke raises an eyebrow. “You’re not my patient,” she says, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, but–“

“Never mind her, Clarke,” Anya interjects. “She gets cranky when she can’t have her way.”

“I’m not– Ugh, you know what, forget it,” Lexa says and hates the way her stomach flips when Clarke just giggles. She giggles and it’s like music to her ears and god dammit, what is it about this woman that just disarms her every. single. time.

Gustus has been observing the whole exchange with a knowing smile. “So. How long will it take? A couple of hours, you said?”

Lexa nods. “Yeah, I think so.”

“I would love to wait with you,” he says apologetically, “but I have to go home to the wife before she kills me.”

“Yeah. And I…” Anya says, looking around, trying to come up with an excuse. “I have stuff to do, so.”

Lexa frowns. They had plans to grab something to eat after their last match, so what does she suddenly have to do?

“I can keep you company,” Clarke offers and Lexa manages to catch Anya’s smirk before she replaces it with an expression of complete indifference.

Lexa glares at her friend –but silently thanks her– and turns to Clarke. “Are you sure? I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“Don’t be silly,” Clarke says. “I would love to catch up. Plus, I have to wait for my mom anyway, so,” she shrugs. Lexa smiles.

“Okay, yeah.”

“Just text me when you’re close to being done and I’ll swing by to pick you up,” Anya says. They exchange goodbyes and soon enough it’s just Lexa and Clarke standing in the middle of the waiting room.

“So. X-Rays?” Clarke asks. Lexa nods in response. “Follow me, then.”

Lexa would gladly follow her to the end of the world if Clarke asked her to.

::::

They reach the fourth floor and Clarke leads her to the X-Ray room in silence. Clarke takes a seat while Lexa walks up to the front desk and hands the receptionist the piece of paper Doctor Griffin had given her.

The receptionist types something into the computer before looking back up. “Okay, Miss Woods. I see Doctor Griffin already added you to the list. It should be another fifteen minutes or so, we will call your name when our technician is ready.”

Lexa thanks her before heading towards Clarke, sitting next to her. It’s quiet for several minutes, awkwardly so. Lexa wonders what she should say next. Ask her how she’s been? Talk like nothing happened? Like she didn’t have sex –mind-blowing sex, mind you– with her and then just left without saying a single word? Would that be better or worse? Is it presumptuous to assume that’s something Clarke even cared about?

“So how–“

“About last–“

They laugh, and it helps break the tension a little bit.

“Sorry, go ahead,” Lexa says.

“I was just going to ask how you hurt your finger,” Clarke points at Lexa’s hand.

“Oh. Anya and I were playing beach volleyball and I completely mistimed a block.”

“Ouch,” Clarke winces. “I didn’t know you played.”

And it’s weird, because they’ve only really seen each other twice in their lives, but it feels like she  _ should _ know. It feels like such a waste of time to have spent all these years without talking. Lexa, once again, regrets the way she left things. But maybe, maybe this time it could be different.

“I only picked it up a couple of years ago. After my trip to Australia I was pretty much hooked.” She had been invited by one of her friends to go out to the beach to relax. She would usually decline all invitations to hang out during the week because she wanted to make sure she made the most out of her year abroad, but that week had been particularly stressful, so for once she had agreed. While there they had began playing and Lexa fell in love with the sport.

As soon as she came back she convinced Anya to try it out too and they have both been training and playing in tournaments for the last year or so.

“Is that where you went?” Clarke asks and Lexa can’t really tell if she sounds bitter or not. “When you left?”

_ When you left _ . The way Clarke says it, it stings.

“Yeah,” Lexa replies softly, hangs her head. If only she could turn back time. “Look, I’m sorry,” she says. “About just leaving, I didn’t mean to–“

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Lexa,” Clarke is offering her a way out, but Lexa doesn’t want it. She wants Clarke to know how much she wishes they had been able to keep in touch.

“I do, though. Because that’s not all that night was for me. It wasn’t just about sex, Clarke,” she whispers the last bit, aware of other patients sitting around them. “It was rather unfortunate I was leaving the next day, but I wish we could have kept in touch or something.”

“Why didn’t you, then?” Clarke asks. Her eyes are so soft, like she’s waiting for an answer she’s been wondering about for years.

Lexa scratches the back of her neck, suddenly feeling embarrassed. Everything about that night was  _ so _ unlike her. Lexa’s not spontaneous, she is organized and in control of everything and that was about anything but control. Ironically enough, it has also been one of the best nights of her life.

“I had to be at the airport at 8 in the morning,” Lexa explains. “I woke up like twenty minutes before seven.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah. It’s safe to say I woke up in a panic. As soon as I saw the time I jumped out of bed, requested a ride, got dressed and I was out the door. I had  _ so _ much left to do, Clarke,” Lexa remembers the panic she felt when she realized how late she was. “I still had to finish packing, I had to get to my place, take a shower,” she’s almost out of breath just explaining it.

“For a second, before my brain kicked into gear and I realized exactly how late I was,” Lexa continues, “I looked over and saw you lying next to me, and God, Clarke… all I wanted to do was get back under the sheets and wake you up,” she can feel her cheeks getting warmer with her confession. “I wanted to reach out, run my fingers over your back, gently kiss your shoulder…” she trails off, remembering where she is.

Lexa casts a glance at Clarke and feels her knees weaken at the sight in front of her: Clarke’s breathing has become shallow and she’s looking at her with a look she remembers seeing years ago.

“Lexa…” Clarke almost whimpers.

“Miss Woods?” the technician interrupts them and it’s as much of a blessing as it’s a curse.

Lexa casts Clarke a small smile before standing up. “Will you be here when I’m done?”

“Do you need me to come in and hold your hand, Lexa?” Clarke teases.

“Ha ha. No, I’m good,” Lexa says, playfully pushing Clarke’s foot with her own.

“Yeah, I’ll be here,” Clarke says with a smile and Lexa doesn’t know how she manages to make it all the way into the x-ray room considering her whole body feels like jello right now.

::::

“You are still here,” Lexa grins at the sight of Clarke still sitting in the waiting room.

“I told you I would be,” Clarke says, standing up and walking towards her. “I wouldn’t just leave without saying anything.”

Her tone is teasing, but it makes Lexa feel guilty anyway. “Clarke, I’m–“

Clarke laughs and bumps her shoulder against her. “Relax, Lexa,” she says, smiling at her. “I’m just teasing you.”

Lexa’s grateful she at least had the chance to explain. “Yeah, yeah.”

“You hungry?” Clarke asks. They’ve reached the elevator and Clarke hits the down button. Lexa watches the numbers illuminate at the top.

“Yeah, actually.”

“Do you have time to get something to eat?” Clarke asks as the doors open and they step inside.

“Yeah, they said it will take a while for them to process the x-rays and send them to Doctor Gr– to your mom.”

“Great,” Clarke beams and hits the button for the sixth floor. “Be prepared to have your mind blown by the most amazing hospital cafeteria meal you’ll ever taste in your life.”

Hm, that sounds delicious. “Really?”

Clarke laughs, the sound bouncing off the elevator’s walls. “No,” Clarke replies with a chuckle.

“Well, that’s just rude. Now I want mind-blowing food.”

Clarke looks at her, bites her bottom lip, and Lexa wishes more than anything that she could read her mind. They stand in the elevator for what feels like hours, tension suddenly making the air feel heavy. Lexa takes in a deep, shaky breath. She’s so tempted to take the couple of steps that separate her from Clarke and just kiss her. Tangle her fingers through blonde hair and kiss her senseless.

The  _ ding _ indicating they’ve reached their floor snaps her back to reality and she shakes her head, turning her face to look away from Clarke. The doors open and Clarke walks past her. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Woods,” she whispers as she exits the elevator, leaving Lexa standing in shock. Apparently Clarke can read  _ her _ mind.

“I wasn’t–“ she tries, once her brain has caught up with her body and her legs begin to work again, catching up to Clarke.

“Sure, Lexa. Whatever you say,” Clarke replies with a smirk and Lexa can’t really be bothered to try to deny it again.

They approach the cafeteria and take a few minutes to figure out what they want to eat. There’s your standard salad, sandwich options plus a few sweet items. Lexa settles for a chicken salad, while Clarke gets a BLTA. They find a table next to one of the windows overlooking the main street below.

“It may not be the greatest food, but the view ain’t half bad,” Clarke says and Lexa is a walking cliche when all she wants to do is stare at Clarke and say she agrees. Instead she focuses on opening her salad, Clarke also busy unwrapping her sandwich.

“Here, let me help you,” Clarke reaches over, gently pushing Lexa’s hands away. She’s having trouble opening the container, what with her swollen finger and all, and is grateful for Clarke’s assistance.

“Thanks,” Lexa says. “Do you spend a lot of time here?” Lexa asks.

“Not really,” Clarke says between bites of her sandwich. She places it back on a napkin before continuing. “I come over sometimes when my mom’s having a busy week. Sometimes it’s the only time we get to hang out when she has to work long shifts.”

“But for the most part I try to avoid it,” at Lexa’s quizzical look she continues. “I will be spending plenty of time here, or somewhere very similar, soon enough. I want to enjoy the rest of the world while I still can.”

Lexa nods, she’s also trying to be better about not burying herself in books. Playing volleyball helps with that. “Finding any time to paint?”

Clarke gives her the brightest of smiles. “You remember,” she sounds surprised.

“Of course I do, Clarke,” Lexa replies honestly. “Despite pretty much disappearing, I’ve thought a lot about you. I’ve always wondered how you were doing, what you are up to,” she pauses. “Sorry, I don’t mean to sound like a creep.”

Clarke shakes her head. “You don’t,” she reaches over the table, softly places her hand over Lexa’s. “It’s kinda sweet, actually.”

Lexa blushes furiously. She’s not usually known as  _ sweet _ . Clarke hasn’t removed her hand, has slowly started running her thumb in circles and Lexa’s brain is ready to short-circuit. God, if Anya saw her right now there’s nothing in the whole entire world that could stop the teasing that would ensue.

As if suddenly realizing what she’s doing Clarke abruptly removes her hand and looks away blushing.

“God,” Clarke says, leaning back on her chair and looking out the window. “What is it about you?” she adds, barely above a whisper. It’s so soft Lexa almost misses it entirely.

“I wonder the same thing about you,” Lexa confesses, waiting for Clarke to look at her. She keeps her eyes fixed out the window instead. “But why fight it, right?” she tries and that gets Clarke to turn her attention back to Lexa. The look in her eyes, however, is far from what she expected. There’s a sadness in there that Lexa can’t decipher.

“So, how’s law school?”

Lexa has to blink a couple of times before her brain catches up with the question. It is an unexpected change of subject and Lexa wants to ask what’s wrong, but let’s it go understanding this might not be the right time or place. She pushes past it and answers instead.

“Stressful. There’s so much to study and memorize and…” she sighs. “Don’t get me wrong, I love it. But sometimes I wish my life could be more simple, you know?”

Clarke nods. “Tell me about it.”

Lexa laughs. “I guess you out of all people would understand,” she says with a smile Clarke reciprocates.

“At least we are not the only ones, right?”

They’ve finished eating, empty wrappers and containers sitting in front of them. The sun is starting to set and Lexa can’t believe she’s wasted a whole afternoon in the hospital. A patch of green catches her eyes and she turns to Clarke.

“I think I still have another hour or so before your mom can see me. Would you like to go for a walk?”

Clarke seems to consider it for a minute. She pulls out her cellphone, checks the time and puts it away. “Yeah. I would like that,” she replies, and she is so fucking beautiful.

_ Get a grip, Woods. _

They take the elevator back to the first floor, exiting the building through the main doors and walking a couple of blocks away before they reach the small park Lexa had seen from the cafeteria. They find a big tree to lean against and they sit down, their backs to it and their arms mere millimeters away. Lexa can almost feel warmth emanating from Clarke’s arm.

“Despite the circumstances,” Lexa says, lifting her hand. “This has been really nice.”

Clarke smiles, but it’s a small smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “I wish we had met again sooner,” she says.

“Better late than never, right?” Lexa’s met with silence. Not even a nod to acknowledge her statement. “Are you okay?” she asks Clarke, placing a hand on her leg. “I know we don’t really know each other, but… you can talk to me,” she offers.

Clarke sits in silence for a while longer, but Lexa can almost hear the gears turning in her head, so she sits in silence too. Clarke will talk when she’s ready. The minutes stretch a bit longer before Clarke speaks again.

“Why does it feel like we do?” Lexa frowns. “Like, I’ve only seen you twice in my life, Lexa. Yet, I feel like I just bumped into an old friend. Like I can talk to you about anything and you’ll sit there and listen and  _ understand _ and–“ she runs a hand through her hair. “It throws me so off balance.”

Lexa understands the feeling completely; she just fails to see what’s so wrong about it. “Maybe it’s destiny?” Lexa asks, almost jokingly but not entirely because how else would you explain how they keep coming back to this?

Clarke laughs bitterly. “Then destiny has a very twisted sense of humor.”

Lexa is about to ask what she’s talking about when her cell phone rings. She pulls it out of her pocket and signals Clarke to hang on for a second and answers it.

“Hey,” she says to the phone. She observes how Clarke sits next to her, picking at the grass. She wants to grab her hand, squeeze it, reassure her. Of what, she doesn’t know. “Yeah, I’m still here,” a pause. “Yeah, she is still here,” she replies and can’t help the smile creeping to her face.

Anya is anything but subtle, so Lexa decides to stand up and walk a few feet away before she asks way too loudly whether they are ready to bang or not.

“How is it going?” Anya asks over the phone.

“Good. I got my x-rays done and I’m waiting for–“

“That’s not what I  _ mean _ ,” Anya interrupts. “With Clarke, you big dork.”

Lexa blushes. “Oh. It’s good. We– we’ve just been catching up, talking. She’s just keeping me company until I can go back to the doctor for the final diagnosis.”

“Hm. Just talking, huh?”

“Yes, Anya,” Lexa rolls her eyes even though she knows Anya can’t see her. Hopefully her voice conveys it, too. “Just talking.”

“So, do you think you’ll still need me to pick you up?” she asks with a hint of a wink.

Lexa looks back towards Clarke. She’s still sitting by the tree, staring straight ahead and lost in her own thoughts.

“Yeah, I think so,” she tries not to sound too disappointed.

“Oh,” Anya says, surprised. “Okay. How much longer do you think it’ll be?”

Lexa checks her watch. “I’d say be here in about thirty minutes.”

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Lexa says goodbye and hangs up. Something bright and yellow catches her eye and she walks towards some sunflowers, picking one up and making her way to Clarke. She sits next to her again, hands her the flower.

“It reminded me of you,” Lexa offers as a way of explanation. “All bright and yellow and pretty under the sunset light.”

_ God, when did she get so damn cheesy? _

Clarke takes it with a smile. She brings it to her nose, smelling it before bringing her hand back down. She twirls the stem between her fingers. “Damn, the things you’re willing to do and say to get laid,” she teases and it’s one of the things Lexa likes about Clarke. She isn’t afraid to call her out when she is being ridiculous. She and Anya would get along well. Maybe too well.

“Is it working?” Lexa asks and really she’s mostly teasing, because that was not the reason she gave her the flower. Or the reason she’s done or said any of the other things today.

“It seems anything you do works,” Clarke says softly and it catches Lexa by surprise because she was not expecting  _ that _ . Lexa looks at Clarke, she’s stopped playing with the flower, has placed it on her lap and is playing with the hem of her shorts instead. Shorts that are pretty, well, short. Showing way more skin than Lexa had allowed herself to appreciate until now. She swallows the lump forming in her throat, tries to bring some moisture back to her mouth because it feels way too dry right now.

Her eyes travel up slowly, and she should blush and feel ashamed of how openly she is checking Clarke out but, can anyone blame her?

Clarke seems to squirm under her gaze, crossing her legs and squeezing them and it only makes her shorts ride higher, more skin exposed. Skin Lexa remembers kissing vividly, almost like it was yesterday. She remembers leaving bite marks, Clarke giggling and playfully pushing her head before letting her come back. Trailing kisses up until she got a taste of Clarke.

And fuck did she taste good.

An involuntary sound that very closely resembles a moan escapes her lips and she finally blushes. She’s getting awfully turned on in the middle of a public park simply by staring at Clarke’s legs. She dares look up, not sure what to expect, but relieved to see darkened blue eyes staring right back at her.

Maybe she should have told Anya not to pick her up after all.

“You really need to stop looking at me like that,” Clarke whispers, although it doesn’t sound like she really means it.

Lexa swallows, nods. “I can’t–“ words die in her mouth when her cellphone vibrates in her pocket. She would ignore it, except she’s expecting a text from the hospital letting her know her results are ready.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, reaching into her pocket and reading the message. “The results are ready. We should go back,” she regrets saying it the minute the words come out. Fuck it. It’s just a finger, she has nine others, who needs ten, really? “Or I could just–“

“We should go,” Clarke says. She sounds more determined than Lexa feels.

“Yeah, okay.”

They walk in silence (it seems to be a pattern with them today), but there’s a feeling Lexa can’t shake, like there’s  _ so _ much more to say despite the silence. She wants to fill it, say anything, but they’ve entered the hospital before she can and it’s already too late.

She approaches the front desk and informs the nurse her results are back. It seems foot traffic has died down quite a bit because she is told Doctor Griffin will be able to see her right away.

“Yeah, I think my mom will be able to take a break after she sees you,” Clarke says to her when Lexa tells her she has to go in already.

They walk past the sliding doors again and Lexa walks into the room while Clarke waits outside. It’s five, maybe ten minutes later when Doctor Griffin walks in the room. She settles in front of the computer.

“Let’s see what we have here,” she says as she begins examining the results.

::::

Lexa stares at her immobilized finger, sighing in disappointment. She had really hoped the x-rays would reveal a different story, but no. She definitely had a fracture.

“You’ll need to keep that on for at least four weeks. I want to see you back here in two to check progress. I assume you know this means absolutely no physical activity involving your left hand.” Lexa nods.

They walk out of the room together, Doctor Griffin telling Clarke she will go gather her things and will be back as soon as she’s done checking one of her patients.

“So,” Clarke says, motioning towards her finger, “how bad is it?”

“It seems Doctor Griffin was right,” Lexa says, leaning against the wall next to Clarke.

“What did she say?”

“No,” Lexa says, shaking her head and smiling. “The other Doctor Griffin.”

Clarke laughs. “Ah. I’m sorry to hear I was right,” she says.

“I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”

“Believe it or not, it is a burden to be right all the time,” Clarke’s eyes are shining bright and Lexa just wants to kiss her. Lexa licks her lips, enjoying the way Clarke’s eyes follow the movement of her tongue. 

“Anyway,” Clarke interrupts her thoughts. “I should probably go wait for my mom,” she says pointing towards the waiting room.

“Right,” Lexa nods. She’s disappointed, but she knew this is how the evening would end. It’s not like she expected Clarke to drop her plans just to keep hanging out.

They walk back out and there’s something so familiar about walking side by side with Clarke. Something pulls at Lexa and she knows she wants a chance to see Clarke again. She may have screwed up the first two times, but the third one’s a charm, right?

“Hey, Clarke?” Lexa asks and Clarke stops walking, turns to look at her. “I would like to see you again,” she says. She expects a smile, or maybe even a joke about how fucking thirsty she is. She doesn’t expect, however, for Clarke to bite her lip and look away.

“I haven’t been completely open with you today, Lexa.”

Lexa’s heart sinks all the way to the ground.

Clarke takes a deep breath before looking at her again. Her eyes seem full of regret. “I’m sorry. I should’ve said something. But I was so surprised, so excited to see you and,” she stammers, “and you are so... you,” she trails off and the silence is killing Lexa.

“What is it?”

“I’m…” Clarke looks away again. Takes another deep breath before looking at her again, although she’s not looking into her eyes this time. Just somewhere on her face, like she’s afraid of whatever she’ll find at the end of her sentence. “I’m seeing someone, Lexa,” she says finally and Lexa feels like someone punched her in the gut.

Lexa stands there, blinks a couple of times. Takes a step back.

Of course.

_ Of fucking course _ .

How could someone as wonderful and special and fucking amazing as Clarke be single? It’s a miracle she was single the first two times.

Blood drains from Lexa’s face. She doesn’t know what to say or how to react. She doesn’t have a right to be angry. Not even to be disappointed. She disappeared, she left two years ago without even saying goodbye. What did she expect?

_ …destiny has a very twisted sense of humor… _

Indeed it does.

“His name is Finn,” Clarke says, obviously trying to fill the silence.

Lexa frowns. Finn? “He’s a…”  _ he?! _ “You’re…”

“I’m bisexual,” Clarke says. “I guess there’s a lot we don’t know about each other.”

The words feel like a bucket of ice. She thought she knew Clarke, knew her a lot more than she had a right to for how little time they have spent together, but it seems she doesn’t know her at all. And it’s not about Clarke being bisexual, Lexa doesn’t care about that. She never has and never will.

She does care, however, about thinking she had a connection with someone and instead… instead there’s a lot about them she doesn’t know. And now they are with someone else and she has absolutely wasted every single chance the universe has given her.

_ You big idiot _ .

“I guess,” Lexa croaks.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I should’ve said something.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Lexa says and she sounds a lot like Clarke years ago.

“I know, but…” Clarke sighs, runs a hand through her hair. “We were obviously… I don’t know, flirting and getting carried away and I obviously misled you, and it wasn’t my intention, Lexa.”

_ Could’ve fooled me. _

And Lexa wants to be mad, because she knows how to deal with anger way better than with whatever tumultuous wreck is going on inside of her right now. But she’s not angry, she just feels sad and so,  _ so _ frustrated at herself for not making an effort to find Clarke sooner, because no matter how much time has passed, Lexa is convinced Clarke is special. No one has ever made her feel the way Clarke does.

“Are you happy?” Lexa asks. She’s afraid to know the answer, but  _ needs _ to anyway. If Clarke is with someone else she needs to know she’s at least happy.

“Yeah,” the way Clarke smiles absolutely breaks her heart. She sounds so sincere. And Lexa has trouble feeling as relieved as she thought she would be knowing she  _ is _ happy. “We’ve been together for over a year now and he’s,” she smiles again, “he’s pretty great.”

Lexa swallows. “Okay, I get it,” she interrupts, because she can’t bare to hear anything else. Doesn’t want to know.

“Right, sorry,” Clarke says, blushing. “That was incredibly rude of me.”

Lexa shrugs. “I asked.”

“Still….”

Silence fills the air around them and Lexa wants to run away, just run, but she’s rooted to the spot because she can’t leave Clarke again, not like this.

“Can I,” Lexa swallows. “Could I maybe give you my number? Maybe we can still hang out, go grab a coffee?” she would rather have Clarke as a friend than not have Clarke at all.

“Lexa…” Clarke says her name so softly. She takes a step closer, stands an inch or two away from her. She brings her arm up, places her hand against Lexa’s cheek. Her eyes look apologetic and Lexa’s already bracing herself for whatever is coming next. “You and I both know that’s not a good idea,” she says, moving her hand to push a strand of hair behind Lexa’s ear before coming to rest back on her cheek. “Remember what happened the last time we got coffee?”

Like Lexa could ever forget.

“It doesn’t have to be like that,” Lexa says and it’s a desperate attempt, she knows.

“Being around you today was hard enough, Lexa,” Clarke admits, her fingers slowly caressing her skin. Lexa’s eyes flutter closed. “I  _ am _ happy, but being with you…” Clarke sighs. “There were moments I wasn’t sure I was going to make it past today without–“ she doesn’t finish her sentence. She doesn’t need to. Lexa knows.

“Save it in your contacts just in case things go south?” Lexa asks half teasing, half hopeful. Clarke laughs and it pains Lexa to know she won’t be able to hear her laugh again.

“I don’t think I would be able to stop myself if I knew you were a tap away.”

It brings small (very small) comfort to know Clarke is having as much trouble with this as Lexa is. Only difference is Clarke gets to go home to her boyfriend and Lexa gets to go home to an empty bed.

“I did enjoy seeing you again, Lexa,” Clarke says and Lexa’s breath catches in her throat when Clarke leans forward, placing a soft kiss on the corner of her mouth. Clarke lets her hand slide off Lexa’s cheek, down her arm until their hands meet. She gives it a light squeeze before letting go. “Take care of yourself, okay?” Clarke takes a step back, putting some distance between them and Lexa feels like the air is being pulled from her lungs as much as she feels like she can finally breathe again.

“May we meet again, Clarke.”

Clarke gives her one last smile before turning around and walking out. Lexa stands there watching her retreating figure, sees Clarke meet her mom outside. Abby seems to sense something is wrong, frowns at her daughter before putting an arm around her shoulders and leading her away from the hospital.

Lexa gets a call from Anya telling her she’s about to pull up only minutes later. The look on her face is all Anya needs to know something is wrong.

::::

Two weeks go by and Lexa’s finger is feeling better. Anya and Gustus insist she needs to get it checked anyway and Lexa agrees, except she goes to a different hospital fifteen miles away to see a completely different doctor.

She doesn’t trust herself to see Doctor Griffin again and not ask if Clarke is still happy.


	4. Fourth Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost Christmas Day so I figured I would get this one out there in case anyone needs a distraction during this time of the year.
> 
> Once again, thanks for taking the time to read and comment. And thanks to my lovely wife for going over it and letting me know what could be better. Do you think if I tell her this is her Christmas present she'll think it's enough?

It’s Wednesday morning and Lexa is standing in line at Grounders Coffee along with, apparently, every other person in the city. She checks her phone, glad that she decided to arrive at the coffee shop earlier than usual so she would have time to sit down and review the case files she’s carrying in the briefcase that’s hanging from her right shoulder.

It’s not like she needs to, really. She has more than prepared for this case and has reviewed the files at least ten different times this week alone, to the point where she could probably recite every word written on those pages by memory. But she wants to, anyway. There’s no such thing as over-preparing.

Several minutes go by before she reaches the front of the line to place her order. Pulling her wallet out of her briefcase, she swipes her card to pay and then moves to the side, putting it away as she navigates through the crowd to get to the counter where the napkins and sweeteners are.

“Clarke!” someone calls and Lexa’s head immediately turns around. She sees one of the baristas holding up a cup and then placing it down. It’s not the first time this has happened, not the first time Lexa has heard the name ‘Clarke’ and has turned around to look. Just in case.

Most of the time it’s just men. Sadly, it’s never actually been _ Clarke_.

“Caramel Macchiato for Clarke!” the barista calls again and Lexa’s heart involuntarily races, even though her brain is yelling at it to calm down. Clarke isn’t the only Clarke in the world to like that type of coffee.

Before she can turn around and busy herself again she sees her. Lexa has to blink a couple of times, make sure she’s not imagining things like a lost explorer would in a desert when they think they finally found an oasis. Could that really be…

Clarke –because it’s definitely Clarke, now that Lexa has been able to pay closer attention. Clarke with her hair up in a ponytail, wearing scrubs and white shoes and looking as beautiful as ever– approaches the barista and Lexa feels an inevitable pull, like metal to magnet, impossible to stop her legs from moving forward, from pulling her towards Clarke.

She is able to catch a glimpse of their conversation from where she stands a foot away, dumbstruck.

“Morning, Clarke,” the barista –Niylah, Lexa reads off of her name tag– greets Clarke with the brightest of smiles. “Another rough one?” she asks. Lexa can’t really see Clarke from where she’s standing, can’t see if she’s just as excited to see _ Niylah_, but her body language does seem friendly and Lexa wants to do something. Step in and interrupt this obvious attempt at flirting because, well… she really has no reason other than she wishes she could talk to her instead.

It’s like her brain and body are making decisions on their own accord, she doesn’t know how or why but she’s moving forward and next thing she knows words are spilling out of her mouth, “If you’re done flirting, I would also like to get my coffee, please.”

She means for it to come off teasingly, friendly. Instead it sounds pretty damn rude.

Clarke turns around, ready to lay it down on whoever this rude stranger is, the words “Excuse me–” dying in her mouth the second her eyes land on Lexa. She stands there, mouth agape, her eyes searching Lexa as if to make sure it’s _ really _ her.

Lexa knows the feeling.

“L-Lexa?”

Lexa smiles. “Hey, Clarke.”

“Oh my God!” Clarke exclaims. Lexa’s too busy enjoying the stink eye she’s getting from the barista to realize Clarke is stepping forward and engulfing her in a tight hug until her arms are already wrapped around her. She quickly recovers from the surprise and reciprocates the hug, squeezing her tightly before they both let go.

“Look at you, miss fancy pants,” Clarke says, referring to Lexa’s outfit.

“Look at you, _ Doctor_,” Lexa says, pointing at Clarke.

“Not yet,” Clarke replies. “I still have a few years left.”

“I’m glad things are coming along, though,” Lexa says with a smile. Is it weird to feel so damn proud of someone you’ve only seen a few times in your life?

“For you too, it seems,” Clark matches Lexa’s smile. “Are you a fancy lawyer now?”

Lexa shrugs. “I’m a lawyer.”

“Black coffee for Lexa!” someone calls from behind the counter.

“Oh, that’s me,” Lexa says, reaching over. With coffee in hand she turns to Clarke. “Do you have time to sit down for a bit?”

Clarke checks her watch. “I still have about twenty minutes left before I have to go back.”

“Great,” Lexa guides them to the only empty couch and sits down, leaning her back against the armrest so she can face Clarke. Clarke does the same on the opposite side.

Lexa takes in the woman sitting across from her. It’s like every time they see each other Clarke is even more beautiful than the last. She looks more tired, slightly dark circles under her eyes tell Lexa she has probably been working long hours at the hospital, yet she still has the energy to flash Lexa a bright smile. It makes her heart skip a beat.

(Lexa has come to accept this reaction as a side effect of being anywhere near Clarke Griffin.)

Her eyes follow Clarke’s hand as she brings the steaming cup of coffee to her lips, blowing softly before taking a small sip. She unconsciously scans it for any sign of a ring, but doesn’t see one. She wonders if maybe it’s hanging on a chain on her neck, maybe tucked safely away while she’s at work.

She realizes she’s been staring –not very inconspicuously, may she add– at Clarke’s hand in complete silence and hopes Clarke doesn’t know exactly what’s going on in her mind. If Clarke does, she doesn’t give it away when she speaks next.

“Seems like I just can’t avoid you, huh?” her eyes shine, her tone teasing and Lexa can’t help the way the corner of her lips pull upward.

“I know. If I didn’t know better I would say you’ve been stalking me.”

“Me? Please. You’re the one who keeps walking into my world,” Clarke’s eyes dance and Lexa knows she could drown in deep blue. That thought doesn’t feel half as scary as it should.

Lexa lifts a perfect eyebrow. “Your world?”

Clarke nods. “Uh huh. The hospital is right around the corner. What’s your excuse?”

“My office is five blocks away.”

“Seems you could’ve found a closer coffeeshop within a five block radius,” Clarke challenges.

“You know I like supporting local stores,” Lexa says. It was something they had discussed the first time they shared a cup of coffee.

“Fair enough,” Clarke concedes. “What’s your excuse for choosing my mom as your doctor that time you fractured your finger?”

“I didn’t–“ Lexa glares at Clarke when she stifles a laugh. “You’re impossible,” she says instead, crossing her arms over her chest and shaking her head.

“No rebuttal, huh?” Clarke presses and Lexa wishes there was something she could throw at her to wipe that smile off her face. Instead, they sit quietly for a few seconds. Lexa can tell Clarke is deep in thought and she feels the shift before actually seeing it. Suddenly, Clarke’s no longer smiling and she looks more serious, like she’s contemplating saying what comes next.

“My mom mentioned you never went back,” Clarke finally says.

Lexa blushes furiously. She didn’t expect Clarke to know she had avoided going to see Dr. Griffin again. “I–,” she clears her throat. “Yeah. I-um, the hospital was kinda out of the way for me so I just went somewhere else. Somewhere closer,” it’s such a big, obvious lie. She hopes Clarke doesn’t decide to comment on it.

“I’m glad to hear you at least finished your treatment,” Clarke says, avoiding her eyes.

“Yeah. It’s all healed now,” Lexa lifts her left hand and wiggles her fingers to prove her point.

Clarke gives a small, short smile. It’s making Lexa uncomfortable and she doesn’t know what to do.

“I couldn’t really face your mom without wanting to ask about you,” Lexa admits after a long pause and internally kicks herself. She doesn’t know why she said it, except things were starting to feel weird and she didn’t want that. If honesty was the way to clear the air, then so be it.

Clarke’s cheeks turn a light shade of pink, her gaze averting Lexa’s once again. Lexa can’t help but think how absurdly adorable she looks.

“Anyway,” Lexa says. “How’s Frank?”

She asks because she needs to know. No ring doesn’t mean no boyfriend, whether it’s Finn –yes, she knows his name is Finn, had replayed their last conversation enough times to remember– or someone else, she _ needs _ to know.

At her question Clarke turns to look back at her, brows furrowed. “Frank?” she asks, confused.

Bingo.

“Um. Your boyfriend? From last time? Was Frank not his name?”

Clarke laughs. “I think you mean Finn.”

“Oh, right,” Lexa pretends to be embarrassed for not remembering. “Finn,” she wants to make a disgusted face at having to say his name out loud, but decides to be a grown up about it instead and just smiles.

“We,” Clarke clears her throat before continuing. It’s like she’s purposefully dragging Lexa through mud, when all she wants to do is come out the other side already. “We broke up a while ago.”

“Oh.” Is it rude to be excited?

“Yeah.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Lexa lies, because if there’s something she is _ not _ feeling right now it’s sorry.

Clarke laughs. “Really, Lexa? You’re sorry?”

Lexa shrugs. “Not really. I mean. I guess if you’re hurting and heart-broken and–“

“It was a while ago, I’m definitely over it and most certainly not hurting.”

“Then no. I’m not sorry,” Lexa admits with a smile.

“How about you?” Clarke dares ask a few seconds later. “Are you seeing anyone?”

“Actually…”

She lets the word hang between them, enjoys watching the way Clarke holds her breath, the way she seems to brace herself for Lexa’s answer. She knows she should feel bad for taking a moment to finish her sentence, but can’t help it when Clarke looks just as hopeful as Lexa imagines she had just minutes ago when she had asked about Finn.

“I’m not,” she finally says and can’t help the chuckle that escapes her lips at the look Clarke gives her.

“Ah,” Clarke replies, feigning nonchalance.

“Yeah.”

They sit there, smiling at each other from across the couch. Lexa feels like a teenager again, excited over the mere prospect of sharing the same space as the woman she’s been pining over for the past (almost) decade.

“So,” Lexa decides to say after they’ve been staring at each other for a few minutes. “You work close by then?” 

Clarke nods. “Yeah. I usually don’t have the time or energy to get coffee from anywhere but the hospital’s cafeteria, but I needed to get out of there for a little bit.”

“I’m glad you did,” Lexa says with a smile. A smile Clarke reciprocates tenfold.

“Me too.”

“Do you have to go back soon?” Lexa asks. She still has another hour before she actually has to be at the office. She realizes Clarke’s schedule is probably less flexible.

Clarke checks her phone for the time and curses under her breath. “Yeah. I only have a few minutes left.”

“Would you–“

“I’m leaving next week,” Clarke blurts out of nowhere, catching Lexa completely off guard. She has to blink a few times to register what Clarke had said. A few more to try and understand why she had said it right there and then.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says. “I just didn’t want to– Last couple of times have been a little confusing. I didn’t want to...” she trails off.

“I understand,” Lexa says, even if she doesn’t fully. “Where are you going?”

“Africa. I’m going there with my mom, we signed up for this program where we get to go and help people who are in need of medical attention, but don’t have the resources to seek out help.”

“That sounds– wow, Clarke,” Lexa says, always in awe of the woman sitting in front of her. “That’s amazing.”

“Yeah,” Clarke says, beaming. “I’m pretty excited.”

“As you should be. That sounds like a wonderful experience,” Lexa wants to reach over, place her hand on Clarke’s knee and give it a light squeeze. She wants to convey just how happy she is for Clarke, but she settles for a smile instead, her hands picking at an imaginary thread on her pants.

“Yeah. I’m not a certified doctor yet, but I can still help around, which is why I’m going with my mom.”

Lexa can tell from the sound of Clarke’s voice and the way her whole face illuminates that this is something she is really looking forward to.

“That’s great,” Lexa says. “How long are you gone for?”

“Two months,” Clarke says. “It’s basically a summer program.”

“What day do you leave?” Lexa asks, needing to know if she’ll be able to Clarke again before she does.

“Tuesday.”

Lexa nods. That’s not a lot of time, but she can work with that. A pause and then, “Go on a date with me.”

“What?”

“Go out with me?” Lexa says, this time a question. Two months isn’t a long time. They’ve gone much longer without seeing each other, they can do two months. Two months is nothing.

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m leaving on Tuesday.”

“I know.”

“That’s five days from now,” Clarke says, as if Lexa doesn’t know what day of the week it is and exactly how many days away Tuesday is from today.

“I know,” Lexa repeats with a small smile.

“I– I don’t think that’s a great idea, Lexa.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m leaving soon and…” Clarke trails off, as if she can’t find any other reason.

“So? Just one date, Clarke. If you decide after that you don’t want to see me again, that’s fine. We leave it at that.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Clarke confesses softly, looking down at her hands currently sitting on her lap.

“Then what is it?” Lexa asks with a frown.

Clarke looks at her like she should know the answer. “What if I _ do _ want to see you again? I have to leave. And it’s not like I’m going on a vacation. I’m going to a whole different continent, across the ocean, to help people. I need to be in the right headspace. I can’t be distracted. I probably won’t be able to talk to you much, if at all.”

“Hey, hey,” Lexa leans forward to place a hand on Clarke’s knee, trying to get her to slow down. “Let’s take it one day at a time, okay? If,” she swallows. “If you want to see me again, then we’ll take it from there. We’ll figure it out. Two months isn’t a long time.”

Clarke scratches the back of her head. “I don’t know, Lexa. It doesn’t seem like the right time.”

Lexa shakes her head. “I’m so tired of waiting for the right time, Clarke. It seems like it’s never the right time whenever we see each other, yet– yet it feels _ right _ to be with you, each and every single time,” a pause. “Look,” she looks around and reaches for her briefcase to fish a pen out of it. She grabs the nearest napkin and scribbles her phone number on it. “Here,” she says, handing Clarke the piece of paper. “This is my number. Think about it and let me know, okay?”

Clarke is still unsure.

“No pressure, Clarke,” Lexa says and she means it. “If you don’t want to, I’ll understand. But if you do…” she points at the digits on the napkin. “You know where to find me.”

Clarke grabs the napkin and tucks it away in one of her pockets, nodding slowly. She gives her a small smile before checking her phone again.

“_Shit_. Now I’m late. I’m sorry, Lexa, but I really have to go,” she says, standing up quickly.

“I know,” Lexa says. “Talk to you later?”

“I gotta go, sorry,” Clarke sidesteps her question, but there’s a look in her eyes that makes Lexa think maybe, _ maybe _ she will.

::::

Lexa has moved to a sofa and has been rereading her notes for the last 45 minutes when a buzz draws her attention to her cell phone. She pulls it out of her briefcase, tapping the screen to find a lonely message staring back at her

**Unknown Number [8:45am]:** _Tell me the time and place_

Her heart skips a beat when the meaning behind it registers, and Lexa can’t help the smile that takes over every muscle on her face.

It follows her all day.

::::

Lexa has faced many challenges throughout her life, yet she has never felt this nervous. Not even right before her Bar exam –the exam that would determine her fate, whether she would become a lawyer or not– because she had prepared and she knew there was nothing else she could do.

But how do you prepare for an evening out with the woman you have been dreaming of taking out on a date for years now?

Lexa has found out the hard way that you simply _ can’t _.

And so she sits on a bench just a few feet away from the hospital’s main doors awaiting Clarke’s text, trying but flat out failing to keep her heartbeat under control.

She hadn’t lost any time asking Clarke out after receiving her message just a couple of days ago. She didn’t know exactly what they would, but she knew she wanted to see Clarke again as soon as possible. After a few exchanged messages they had settled on Saturday evening, the only evening Clarke had free this week.

A long internet search began for the perfect date, but nothing felt right. Nothing felt like it did a date with Clarke justice. She didn’t need extravagant, she needed special. Something Clarke would enjoy not because of how much money was spent, but because it’s something Clarke would genuinely have a good time doing.

Finally, after hours of picking her brain (and Anya’s too, who by the end had asked Lexa not to call her until she knew how to talk about anything other than Clarke) she had come up with what she thought was the perfect date.

But even with those hours of research, even after finding an idea she was finally satisfied with she still felt nervous. Why, she wasn’t sure. Maybe because it felt like everything was on the line. What if Clarke didn’t have fun? What if whatever connection they had shared previously wasn’t there anymore? What if–

Her brain spiraling out of control is cut short by a buzz in her pocket. Lexa rubs her sweaty palms down her pants before grabbing the phone and looking at the screen.

**Clarke [6:07pm]:** _Sorry! Almost ready. Meet me out front in five?_

They had agreed to meet at 6, but Lexa is not surprised to see Clarke is running a little bit late. Even as a lawyer she sometimes can’t know for sure when she’s going to be done with work; she knows working at a hospital isn’t any better. In fact it’s even harder, which is why she’s relieved to know Clarke is still coming, even if it’s a few minutes late.

She feels it’s unnecessary to respond and instead decides to stand up and walk toward the main entrance, standing to one side of the sliding doors. She spots Clarke before Clarke sees her. She is walking in her direction, but stops to chat with a nurse by the front desk. They exchange a few words, words she can’t hear until someone approaches the doors and they open, carrying Clarke’s words over.

“Have a good night, Maya,” Clarke says and Lexa’s stomach flutters just by hearing her voice. Her fingers had itched to dial Clarke’s phone number for the past couple of days, but she had decided to play it cool and just wait until they were in person to talk –actually _ talk_– again.

“You too, Clarke,” she hears the nurse, Maya, reply. “And good luck tonight,” she adds with a knowing smile.

Clarke walks away shaking her head and rolling her eyes, but Lexa catches the light reddening of her cheeks. It only takes Clarke a few more seconds to spot Lexa, and when she does her steps falter.

“Lexa,” she breathes out. Lexa feels the air leave her lungs as well. Something about Clarke standing in front of her, _ on purpose_, ready to go out with her. “Hey,” she says, a soft smile playing at her lips.

Lexa approaches Clarke to meet her halfway, unable to ignore the curious look she’s getting from Maya. “Hey,” she replies softly once her brain and mouth start communicating again.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Clarke says. “It got kind of crazy in there during the last hour.”

“It’s not a problem,” Lexa replies, grinning. She could try to hide how excited she is to be seeing Clarke again, but she is leaving in a couple of days and Lexa doesn’t want to waste time pretending. “You ready?”

Clarke nods in response. “So, where are we going?”

Lexa smiles at the eagerness in her voice. “What, you haven’t figured it out yet?”

“I don’t have much to go with. All you said was casual,” Clarke points at herself. “Casual enough?”

Lexa takes the opportunity to fully appreciate the woman standing in front of her. She’s wearing tight dark gray pants and a button up red flannel shirt (top three buttons unbuttoned, enough to reveal a hint of a cleavage). Lexa bites her lip.

“I don’t know. Are you comfortable running in those?” she asks, pointing at Clarke’s ankle boots. It’s comical how big Clarke’s eyes get.

“Running? I– You didn’t–“ her stuttering stops when she hears Lexa laugh. “Very funny, Lexa.”

“Thanks, I thought so,” Lexa replies, unable to wipe the smile off her face. Clarke smacks her arm in response. “But, no. It’s fine. You look…” she meets Clarke’s eyes. “You look beautiful.”

If she could get paid to make Clarke blush she would dedicate her life to doing so.

“Are you hungry?”

Clarke groans, placing her right palm over her stomach. “Oh God, yes. Starving!”

“Great, there’s this restaurant I want to take you to. I don’t know if you’ve been there before, it’s only a few blocks away,” Lexa says, pointing to her left.

They begin to walk side by side, Lexa casually glancing over to the woman walking beside her. It still feels a bit surreal.

“Rough day?” she asks after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

Clarke shrugs. “Not particularly. I’ve had worse, but it got really busy at the end and I was just ready to leave at that point.” 

“Too anxious to see me?” Lexa teases and Clarke rolls her eyes in response.

“Just anxious to leave work. Don’t let it get to your head.”

Lexa hums, not really believing her, but not commenting any further.

They reach the restaurant shortly after, Lexa leading the way and holding the door open for Clarke before going in. They approach the hostess and Lexa informs her she has reserved a table for two under her name.

The hostess nods, typing in Lexa’s information on the tablet in front of her. It only takes a few seconds for her to find what she’s looking for, and then she directs her attention back to them.

“Your table is ready. Please follow me this way.”

They follow her past already occupied spots, finally stopping in front of a small table by the window. Lexa can see there’s already only a few spots left unoccupied and is relieved they made it before it got completely full.

“Your waiter will be right with you,” the hostess offers them a smile before retreating back to her spot at the front of the restaurant.

Lexa pulls a chair back allowing Clarke to sit down before heading to the opposite side of the table and sitting down as well. She spends the next few seconds appreciating Clarke as she takes in the restaurant.

“I’ve always been curious about this place,” Clarke says once her eyes are done wandering and have settled back on Lexa. “I never thought I would find the time to come here.”

Lexa smiles, glad she’s making an impression so far. “The lines can get pretty crazy.”

“I know, I’ve walked past it a couple of times after work and there’s always at least a few people waiting outside.”

“It’s pretty small, so that doesn’t help. But it’s actually really good food, too. You’ll see,” Lexa says, reaching for the napkin that’s in front of her. She frees the utensils, placing them on the table. Then she neatly rests the napkin on her lap.

They fall into silence as they both take a few minutes to go over the menu. Lexa already knows what she wants, but she is contemplating maybe ordering an appetizer to begin with. Their artichoke-spinach dip is a good option to carry them over until their entrees are ready.

She tells Clarke some of the meals she’s tried, highly recommending their shrimp risotto. By the time the waiter arrives with their glasses of water they already know what they want to order.

Once they are alone again an uncomfortable silence engulfs them. Clarke is busy looking around the dimly lit restaurant, while Lexa is busy trying to come up with something to say.

“So…” she starts, but quickly trails off.

Clarke’s eyes find hers. “So,” is all she says.

They sit in silence for another second or two before Clarke giggles. She just giggles and Lexa feels her chest fill with something warm.

“This is kind of weird, huh?” Lexa offers.

“A little,” Clarke agrees, but the smile on her face helps calm Lexa down just a little.

“Remember, no pressure,” Lexa says, trying to sound reassuring, but the truth is her heart is beating wildly in her chest. She knows what’s at stake, what could happen if things don’t go well tonight, but she’s going to do absolutely everything in her power to stop that from happening.

Lexa looks out the window, the top floor of her office peaking between the other buildings. She can’t help but think how crazy it is that after all this time they ended up working just a few blocks away from each other. She turns back to see Clarke looking at her curiously.

“Can you believe I work there?” Lexa asks, pointing at the same building she had been looking at before, Clarke’s eyes following. “For the past year I’ve been five blocks away from you and we never crossed paths.”

Clarke moves her head then, looking in the opposite direction where Lexa knows the hospital is. “I wonder how many times we’ve barely missed each other.”

“Even just one time is one too many,” Lexa says, returning her attention to the woman in front of her instead of the world outside.

“I think the universe gets a kick out of messing with us,” Clarke says with a smirk and Lexa chuckles, finally feeling like she can relax. They fall into silence again, but this time it isn’t uncomfortable, because there’s something to be said about the fact that she’s only seen Clarke three times before and they are still able to sit across from each other and talk like no time has passed at all.

So this time she enjoys the silence and just sits there, looking at Clarke with a smile on her face. The glint in Clarke’s eyes is so distracting, Lexa doesn’t even notice the waiter has come back with their appetizer until the food is being placed right in front of her.

“Careful, it’s really hot,” he warns them.

“Thank you,” Lexa tells him. He nods curtly and then turns around, heading to help another table.

“I’m glad you changed your mind about going on a date with me,” Lexa says around a bite of toasted pita dipped in cheese.

Clarke shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. “You were very persistent.”

“Oh, is that why?” Lexa asks, leaning back on her chair. “And not because you were dying to see me again?”

An eye-roll and then a shake of her head. “You’re so full of yourself,” Clarke says, but Lexa can see she’s fighting off a smile, which she tries to cover by bringing her napkin up to her mouth.

::::

The rest of dinner goes well, not that Lexa is surprised. She finds that talking to Clarke comes as naturally as breathing or walking, something she can do without really thinking about it. She is delighted by Clarke’s stories, especially eager to hear how life as an almost-doctor is going, if she’s found that it’s something she’s okay doing for the rest of her life.

When Clarke’s upcoming trip comes up again, Lexa realizes that it’s definitely something that fulfills her. She is so passionate when she tells Lexa her itinerary, the places they’ll be staying at and the plans Clarke and her mom have for the two months they’ll be spending there.

It saddens her to know Clarke will be leaving in less than seventy-two hours, but seeing the way it lights up her face, the way she excitedly gesticulates when talking about how much she’s going to be helping other people, makes Lexa glad she also gets to experience this with her.

The waiter comes back one last time with their check and Lexa immediately takes it, despite Clarke’s protest.

“Let me at least pay half of it,” Clarke says, even though Lexa is shaking her head and reaching for her wallet already. She places the credit card in the designated slot, making sure to keep the check on her side of the table so Clarke can’t try to grab it.

“You can get it next time,” Lexa ventures. She’s not being very coy, but that’s okay. She’s never really been one to back away from something she wants.

(Well, except for that time when Clarke had her pressed up against the door in a bathroom stall. But let’s not think about that).

Clarke doesn’t say anything in return, but Lexa doesn’t think much of it. This is only part one of their date and she still has plenty of time to make sure Clarke will want to see her again.

“So,” Lexa says once the waiter had returned her credit card and they’ve stood up to leave. “With all the time you’ve been spending at the hospital, do you have any time to paint still?”

Clarke joins Lexa’s side as they exit the restaurant. The sun has begun to lower in the horizon, but there’s still plenty of light outside. It’s one of the things Lexa enjoys the most about summer, how long the days feel and how much time she can spend outside.

“Not really. I’ve had an easel up in my living room with the same canvas for probably the past seven months, barely able to add a stroke or two.”

Lexa smiles, even more excited about the second part of their date. “I hope you don’t mind if we walk a little bit more?” Lexa asks, wanting to make sure Clarke isn’t too tired after spending all day working.

“You’d be surprised at how much better my stamina has gotten ever since I started working at the hospital,” Clarke says and Lexa knows, she really knows it’s supposed to be an innocent comment, but she can’t help the thoughts that run through her mind. She swallows, her throat suddenly feeling very dry, but she soldiers on, looking ahead.

She can feel Clarke’s eyes on her then and she dares turn her head to see her face, only to find a knowing smirk staring back at her.

Okay.

So maybe it wasn’t supposed to be so innocent.

“Well,” Lexa says, turning back to look straight ahead, choosing to ignore Clarke’s look. “In that case, it’s just going to be a couple more blocks and we’ll be there.”

They are heading back in the direction of the hospital, but they turn right instead of going straight. They pass a couple of other restaurants, most of them filled with patrons, until they reach their destination.

“I hope it’s like riding a bicycle, then,” Lexa says, stopping in front of a small store. There’s a logo on the showcase, the words ‘The Ark – Art Studio’ neatly displayed on the shopfront. There’s a smaller sign to the right, leaning against the window sill that reads ‘Paint & Sip, Tonight 8pm’.

Lexa looks over at Clarke who’s still figuring out where they are and what they are doing. Lexa focuses on her eyes as they land on the logo and then on the sign, her smile getting bigger.

“We’re painting?” Clarke asks, and if Lexa had any doubts about whether or not this would be a good idea, they quickly disappear when she realizes just how excited Clarke is.

“If you’re down for it,” Lexa says, even though she already knows the answer.

“Are you kidding?” Clarke reaches for her hand then, pulling Lexa toward the door. She opens it with her other hand and Lexa has to make sure not to stumble as they enter, looking around for the front desk. “Lexa,” Clarke whispers from beside her while they wait for someone to ring them in. “Thank you,” is all she says, but then she stands on the tip of her toes and places a soft kiss on Lexa’s cheek.

By the time the assistant reaches them, Lexa’s cheeks are burning.

“Hi,” Lexa says, hoping the studio is dark enough that neither she nor Clarke will notice how much she’s blushing. “We’re here for the eight o’clock class.”

After verifying Lexa’s reservation, the employee hands them both aprons and their choice of wine. She then leads them into a classroom where there’s two long tables with about ten easeles each, five per side. On the opposite wall there’s a desk with a single easel and a painting of a sunset at the beach hanging on the wall.

There’s already a few people there, so Lexa and Clarke walk to the end of the table closest to them, taking a seat right next to each other. In front of them they have their canvas, as well as a cup holding different kinds of brushes.

Lexa places her glass of wine on the table, far away enough from the cup so she doesn’t accidentally knock it when trying to reach for any of the brushes.

She’s thankful she put it down when she jumps, Clarke’s hand on her thigh startling her. Lexa turns to look at her, and sees Clarke leaning closer, resting some of her weight on Lexa’s leg as she does.

“I’m really glad I changed my mind, too,” Clarke whispers, her lips only inches away from Lexa’s ear.

Lexa wants to reply, say something along the lines of _ ha! I told you so! _ or close to it, but instead she’s too busy getting flustered again, this time feeling her ears burning instead.

She doesn’t know how she’s supposed to focus now.

Clarke leaves her hand on Lexa’s thigh a few minutes longer, until the person in charge of leading the class starts speaking. It’s only then that Lexa relaxes again, reaching for one of the brushes and dipping it in bright orange.

She looks at Clarke then, her eyes focused on the instructor ahead. She’s already got a few brushes laid out –her favorites, Lexa assumes– and a few strokes on the canvas. Lexa smiles, enjoying the way Clarke’s shoulders seem to have relaxed, like the weight of the day (or the week) has dissipated now that there’s nothing but colors to worry about.

::::

Painting is harder than Lexa remembers. She hasn’t really tried painting anything since the last art class she ever had to take in high school and well… let’s just say she wasn’t an artist then, and she certainly isn’t an artist now.

She sits there, tilting her head from side to side, trying to understand why her painting looks _ so _ different from the one displayed at the front. Or to her right. Or Clarke’s, on her left.

“You’re adorable,” she hears Clarke say from beside her and she can identify that cheeky tone any day.

Lexa glares at her. “Shut up, Clarke. We can’t all be art prodigies,” she says, taking the time to admire the beautiful sunset Clarke has managed to paint on her canvas. If she looks at her own, all Lexa can see is different color strokes, one on top of the other, mixing but not in harmony.

“It looks great, Lexa,” Clarke insists, and Lexa knows she’s just being polite because it does not look good. At all.

“Oh, yeah? If it’s so great, here,” Lexa says, taking a clean brush and coating the tip with dark green. “Let me help you make yours better,” she reaches over, brush heading straight for Clarke’s painting.

“Don’t you dare,” Clarke hisses under her breath, pushing Lexa’s arm away. “I don’t want you anywhere near my painting, you’ll ruin it,” she says, almost pouting.

Lexa would be more offended if she didn’t know that’s actually true.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Lexa says, slowly retreating her hand. As soon as Clarke turns back to her canvas, though, she starts moving her arm forward again, this time in the direction of Clarke’s face. “Hey, Clarke,” she says, once the brush is just close enough.

“Yea–” the question dies on Clarke’s lips as soon as the fine hairs come in contact with her face, green spreading across her cheek and then her nose. She opens her mouth, staring at Lexa. “Did you really just–”

Lexa gives her a big smile. “You look adorable,” she says, with the same tone Clarke had used before.

Blue eyes widen, and Clarke dips her brush in fresh paint, not even caring that it’s a different color. Lexa knows she’s planning on retaliating, so as soon as Clarke’s hands head her way she leans back, forgetting she’s sitting on a wobbly stool and almost losing her balance.

She reaches a hand out, grabbing onto the table, everything on it rattling. All eyes turn in their direction.

“Everything okay?” the instructor asks.

“Uh, yeah,” Lexa manages to say. “Perfect.”

She can hear Clarke giggling from beside her and Lexa smacks her leg, shaking her head once everyone has returned to their paintings. “You’re the worst,” she says under her breath.

“What happened to me being adorable?” Clarke asks, reaching to clean her face with a wet cloth. The same pout from before is back, except more prominent this time and Lexa just wants to kiss her.

How on earth has she managed to go this long without kissing her?

“Severe lack of judgement on my part,” Lexa says, trying to keep her thoughts at bay.

“Hm,” Clarke says from beside her. Plastic slides against wood as she moves her stool to stand up, taking a couple of steps to walk over to stand behind Lexa. Clarke reaches around her, taking one of the brushes from the table and it’s then that Lexa realizes she has managed not to kiss her because she hasn’t been close enough.

But now… now that Clarke is standing behind her, pressing her body against her as she leans forward, her breath tickling her neck, Lexa isn’t sure how much longer she’ll be able to last.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Lexa asks, barely above a whisper.

“Helping you with this monstrosity,” Clarke teases. She hands Lexa the brush she had picked up and she takes it. “Softer strokes,” Clarke says, sliding her hand from Lexa’s wrist down to her elbow. She wraps her fingers around it gently, guiding her arm forward until it’s in front of her canvas again.

With half a mind Lexa begins adding colorful strokes between the different shades of the sunset, her arm at Clarke’s disposal. Her heart beats incessantly against her chest, wishing for the first time tonight that she had picked a more private activity.

For a minute she stops paying attention to what she’s doing, trusting Clarke will guide her, her brain too busy short-circuiting at the thoughts running through her head: Clarke’s lips against her own, the feel of her body pressed against Lexa’s, eyelids closing as she slides further in.

All thoughts she had forced herself to block from her mind years ago, but that are coming back to her at this moment, with Clarke standing so close, her touch so soft.

“There, see?” Clarke’s voice breaks her haze and Lexa has to blink a couple of times to see what Clarke is talking about. After her eyes refocus on the painting in front of her she can see the difference, and a small smile appears on her face.

“Much better,” she says, turning her head to make sure Clarke can hear her. She doesn’t know why she didn’t expect Clarke to be close enough that their noses touch, but she is and her breath catches in her throat. She would lean back, give Clarke some space, but she’s afraid she will lose her balance again and who knows if she’ll be able to catch herself this time.

Clarke is looking at her, also not moving, rooted to the spot. Lexa searches her face to try and figure out what she’s thinking and finds her answer when Clarke’s eyes flicker to look at her lips for a split second before meeting hers again.

And god, she really should’ve picked a more private activity.

“There’s about ten minutes left,” the instructor says and it startles both of them. Clarke finally takes a step back, moving to sit on her stool again.

“So, just do that,” Clarke says, staring at her own painting. She picks up a brush again, but doesn’t do more than just stare at the work she has created.

“Right,” Lexa nods.

She tries, she really does, but her painting doesn’t look any better by the time the class is over. And that’s okay, because Clarke looks at her own painting with pride, and gives Lexa the brightest of smiles and no matter how ugly her own painting turned out, she’s pretty sure she can declare this date a success.

::::

“Where did you park?” Clarke asks once they reach the hospital’s front doors, the same spot where they met a few hours ago. Lexa wishes she could rewind time just so that she could be starting her evening with Clarke instead of ending it.

“I parked my car at work,” she says, pointing in the direction of her building. “But the garage closes at 10 and it’s already,” she fishes her phone out of her pocket to check the time, “10:30, so I won’t be able to get it until Monday,” she swipes through her phone, looking for the ride sharing app icon. “So I’ll just request a ride.”

“Are you kidding?” Clarke asks, pushing Lexa’s hand down before she can do anything else. “I’m dropping you off.”

“What? No,” Lexa says, although her stomach twists at the thought of spending more time with Clarke. “I don’t want to bother you. I can just catch a ride.”

“Put your phone away,” Clarke says and it’s almost threatening. “I’m taking you home,” Lexa’s mouth falls open and Clarke must realize what it sounded like because her cheeks redden. “I mean, I will drop you off. At your house. And then I’ll drive. To my house.”

Lexa chuckles, fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss her or hug her or _ something_. “Okay, Clarke,” she says. “Take me home,” and if she says it somewhat seductively, well– can you really blame her?

::::

“You really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it,” Lexa says from the passenger side as Clarke drives them to her house. They are about ten minutes away now.

“It’s the least I can do after the great evening you planned out for us,” Clarke says, her eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Lexa smiles, looking at Clarke for any signs of a joke, but she seems to mean it. It’s the first real confirmation she’s had that Clarke has enjoyed her company, but just for good measure she asks, “Did you have a good time?”

Clarke looks at her briefly and then trains her eyes back on the road. “You know I did.”

“I’m glad,” Lexa says, turning to look out the window. She’s always loved seeing the streetlights appear and disappear when she drives at night, the lights coming and going.

“Did you?” Clarke asks and she sounds… small, almost. Lexa doesn’t understand how there’s any version of this scenario where Clarke doesn’t realize just how much Lexa has enjoyed herself.

“So much, I want to see you again,” she says, deciding to lay it all out there. She smiles when Clarke seems to falter, her hands shaking a little against the steering wheel.

“You know I’m leaving soon,” Clarke says and Lexa feels her heart stop. She knows this, of course, but she isn’t sure what that means in the context of seeing each other again. Does Clarke not want to see her after tonight? Was this just a fun, one-off date and that’s it?

She’s so caught up in her thoughts she almost misses her house, but Clarke manages to stop right outside her driveway, albeit somewhat abruptly.

They sit in silence for a few seconds, the air around them feeling heavy, like there’s so much riding on how this night ends, and in a way it’s true.

“I’ll walk you to your door,” Clarke offers, reaching for the handle and swinging the door open. Lexa smiles and then does the same, stepping out of the car and meeting Clarke by the sidewalk.

They walk in silence, side by side, until they reach Lexa’s porch, going up a couple of steps until they are in front of her door. They turn to face each other, Lexa balancing on the balls of her feet. Clarke looks out into the night, to her car, and then turns to look at Lexa again.

“Thank you for tonight,” Clarke says. It’s quiet, crickets can be heard in the distance, but Lexa’s heart is beating erratically in her ears.

“Thank you,” Lexa replies. Taking a deep breath, she prepares to put herself on the line again. “I–”

“I’m leaving in less than three days,” Clarke says before Lexa can speak. She takes a step closer, her hand reaching over until it’s resting on Lexa’s hip. She gives it a light squeeze. “I still have to work tomorrow and Monday, and have to pack on top of that. You know how hectic that can be,” she says with a smirk and Lexa rolls her eyes.

“Of course. I understand,” Lexa says, trying to hide how disappointed she feels, looking out into the night to avoid giving away her thoughts. She’s afraid Clarke will be able to read her with just one look.

She’s bracing herself to be blown off, but really, she shouldn’t be surprised. She knew Clarke was leaving soon, knew she wasn’t even sure they should see each other in the first place, so why does her chest feel so tight and why does she feel like no matter what, it’s still not the right time?

“But,” Clarke says then, and Lexa looks at her just in time to see her take another step forward. Now they are standing toe-to-toe and Lexa has to tilt her head down slightly to be able to look at Clarke. “I would absolutely love to see you when I get back,” Clarke says and that tightness Lexa was feeling in her chest completely disappears.

“Yeah?” Lexa asks, her face almost hurting from how big she’s smiling.

“Lexa…” Clarke says and before Lexa can ask what, Clarke reaches up, grabbing Lexa by her shirt and pulling her toward her, closing the distance and kissing her.

Lexa had thought about kissing Clarke plenty of times, but she never realized exactly how much she missed it until their lips touched again. And it’s like years of missing and reminiscing and searching culminate in that one kiss they share on Lexa’s porch at eleven thirty on a Saturday night.

The kiss is shorter than Lexa expected, by the time her body reacts and her hands try to find Clarke, the other woman is already taking a step back.

Lexa looks at her, wide eyes and parted lips, breathing heavy. Clarke smiles, slowly licking her lips.

“Do you want to come in?” Lexa asks, reaching for her keys.

“I wish I could,” Clarke says, taking another step back. “But I have an early shift tomorrow, so I have to go home.”

Lexa nods. “I’m not going to force you,” she says with a smile, looking at Clarke’s feet and the space between them. “You don’t have to run away.”

“I trust you, Lexa,” Clarke says and the words makes Lexa’s chest expand. “I just don’t trust myself, so,” she takes a quick step forward, leaning on her toes just enough so she can place another quick kiss on Lexa’s lips before pulling away. Clarke smiles, so bright she could light up the whole city, and Lexa matches it.

“I’ll see you soon?” Lexa asks, even though right now two months doesn’t seem like soon at all, but she tries to remember that in the big scheme of things two months is way better than two years and she can do this. They can do this.

“I can’t wait,” Clarke says and Lexa can sense how hard it is for her to walk away right now, her steps slow and uncertain. Eventually Clarke takes a deep breath, shakes her head to clear her mind and then turns around, walking to her car.

Lexa waits on her porch until Clarke gets in her car, waving one last time before driving away. Taking a deep breath, Lexa turns around and unlocks the door, walking into her house. She heads into the kitchen to get a glass of water, not because she’s particularly thirsty, but because she needs to keep herself busy.

Her heart is pounding, her mind is racing and she needs to do everything in her power to stop herself from reaching into her pocket to call Clarke. She wants to reach out, talk to her again, ask her if she’s sure she can’t hang out for a little bit longer.

If she’s being completely honest she’s a little bit worried. Even with the promise of seeing each other after Clarke gets back she can’t help but think of every other time they’ve seen each other and how one way or another it has always stopped after that.

What if something happens this time, too? What if two months go by and Lexa doesn’t see Clarke again?

She takes out her phone then, opening her messages and clicking on Clarke’s name, ready to send her something. What, she doesn’t know, but just– anything, at this point.

But then she thinks better of it. She doesn’t want to make Clarke uncomfortable, this is what they had agreed on and Clarke made it clear that she wants to see Lexa again. So if the universe is going to plot against those plans, then… well, she can’t do more than just wait to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Even though I've been posting these once a week-ish, I may try to get the next chapter out sooner than that if I manage to finish writing it faster than usual.
> 
> Happy Holidays!


	5. Fifth Encounter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave it up to me to promise to upload a new chapter faster than usual. Of course as soon as I did that my brain had a 'SQUIRREL!' moment and decided to write a completely different story instead. And then it had the nerve to struggle to get this one out. Wtf, brain?
> 
> Anyway. It's finally here. Sorry for the delay, goes to show I should never make any promises.

Memories of Clarke’s deep blue eyes invade Lexa’s mind. The way Clarke’s lips moved against her own, how good it felt to have Clarke pressed against her. Her laughter, her bright smile; every little detail permeates her consciousness, leaving room for little else.

Two and a half months have gone by and not a single word from Clarke. Texts and calls have gone unanswered, even though she’s been back for the past couple of weeks. Helplessness setting into Lexa’s bones, all hope for a much-anticipated reunion shattering completely.

Those are the thoughts haunting her on this late Sunday afternoon. It’s been less than twenty-four hours since their date and Lexa’s been trying really, really hard not to let negative thoughts intersperse with memories of last night.

So far she hasn’t been very successful.

Never having considered herself to be a passive person who just lets things happen to her instead of making things happen  _ for _ her, Lexa wonders not for the first time in the last few years what has prompted her to take that approach when it comes to Clarke. Has often wondered if things would have been different if she hadn’t.

What would have happened if she had gone back to that bar in case Clarke frequented it enough? What if she had sent a letter to Clarke’s apartment, even though she isn’t entirely sure she remembers the actual address, just to explain her disappearing without a trace? What if she had returned to see Dr. Griffin just to pass her number along, in case Clarke ever changed her mind?

Mulling over her inactions of the past doesn’t do much to help her right now. She’s lucky enough to have bumped into Clarke one more time, but she feels like she’s pushing her luck if she leaves it at that.

Knowing Clarke is just as interested in seeing her as Lexa is in seeing Clarke brings her slight comfort, and the last drop of courage she needs to stop just letting things be and take charge of them instead.

With that thought in mind she walks over to the dining room table where her laptop has been sitting all afternoon. She takes a seat in front of it, opening the lid and signing in. She minimizes all unrelated windows, leaving only the browser up.

She doesn’t want to reach out to Clarke in a way that will force her to engage. She respects Clarke’s decision to focus on her work and preparing for her trip, so a call or a text is out of the question. Not unless Clarke reaches out to her first. So instead she opts for a simple gesture to let Clarke know Lexa is thinking about her.

An idea pops into her head almost immediately. She doesn’t know exactly where Clarke is going, but wherever it is she’s pretty sure she could really use two things: a power bank to extend the battery life of any small device she’s carrying with her and a power adapter to charge both of them whenever she gets the chance.

Lexa remembers arriving in Australia, feeling as prepared as possible considering her unexpected encounter with Clarke, only to find out she wasn’t able to use or charge any of her electronics until she bought a power adapter, the difference in voltage and plugs a hindrance. Visiting the hardware store had never been on her list of things to do on her year abroad, yet it had been the first place she had gone to.

She realizes her gift is practical, thoughtful at most. But it’s a good enough excuse to reach out, so before she can let any doubts stop her from purchasing the items, she adds them to her cart and chooses the one-day shipping option with the hospital as the address hoping Clarke is able to receive packages there.

After completing the order Lexa sits back, crossing her arms. Her heart is beating against her chest, her head making her wonder if she made the right choice. It’s not too late to cancel the order, the option is right there. But she shakes her head, reaching over to close the lid and stand up before she changes her mind.

She’s not expecting much from this anyway, just to maybe put a small smile on Clarke’s face once she receives the package and reads the small note she added to it.

::::

Now that she feels like she’s actually done  _ something _ , Lexa is able to bury herself back into work. The case she had been preparing for earlier this week has moved on to the next stage, which means she has plenty more work to do and it’s enough to keep her busy and her worrying thoughts at bay.

She goes into work the next day with the same attitude, focusing her energy on her job instead of the blonde woman who’s probably working a few blocks away from her right now.

It works fairly well. Visits with clients come and go, as well as meetings with colleagues and soon enough she’s well into Monday’s late afternoon when her phone dings.

Putting the pen down on top of the notepad she had been scribbling notes on, she reaches for her phone, picking it up to see who had messaged her.

She can’t help the smile on her face when she sees the name, but it’s quickly replaced with a frown once the message registers.

**Clarke [3:47pm]:** _What did I ever do to you?_

The words, confusing as they are, make Lexa’s heart start beating erratically, her brain scrambling for an answer to Clarke’s semi-ambiguous text.

Lexa can only assume she’s received her package and a quick search of her order confirms as much, but she’s struggling to find the reason why it may have made Clarke upset.

Before she can actually muster any sort of reply, however, Clarke is texting her again. Three dancing dots pop up first, followed by another text.

**Clarke [3:49pm]: ** _ You’re incredibly thoughtful and you’re making this whole leaving without seeing you again thing very hard _

Lexa lets out a sigh of relief, leaning back on her chair, phone firmly in place. The smile is back on her face, and she pulls in her bottom lip as she thinks of what to say.

**Lexa [3:50pm]:** _I’m sorry?_

She doesn’t really mean it, happy to confirm once again Clarke seems to be struggling just as much as she is.

**Clarke [3:50pm]:** _I don’t think you are. In fact, I think you know exactly what you’re doing_

And maybe she does, but Clarke doesn’t need to know that.

**Lexa [3:51pm]: ** _ Let the record show I can’t confirm nor deny that _

**Clarke [3:51pm]:** _Don’t go all lawyer on me. I’m onto you_

That makes Lexa laugh, but before she can write anything else, Clarke is typing one more message.

**Clarke [3:52pm]:** _Dammit, I have to get back to work. Thank you again for your gift, it was very sweet :)_

**Lexa [3:52pm]:** _Of course :) Have a great trip, Clarke_

Torn between feeling excited about her exchange with Clarke and sad that it’s now over and she won’t be able to talk to her again until she gets back two months from now, Lexa wonders if faking a medical emergency just so she can land in Clarke’s hospital is a bit of a stretch.

It doesn’t take long for her to conclude that yes, it would be. And she doesn’t want to push her luck since so far it seems she hasn’t managed to scare Clarke away with her lack of subtlety.

This whole situation requires an intricate balance between showing interest while not being overwhelming. Clarke is obviously busy so it’s time to back away. She’ll send her another message tomorrow before Clarke flies out and then just count down the days until she’s back.

::::

Later that day Lexa’s sitting on her living room floor, head buried in paperwork as she goes over the case files currently spread all across her coffee table. It’s probably somewhere after 10pm and she knows she should put everything away to let her brain catch a break, but she’s on a roll.

She’s taking notes on a pad, a forgotten mug of coffee next to her getting colder by the minute, when she’s interrupted by her phone ringing. She has to do a double-take when she sees Clarke’s name on the screen.

A quick look to her microwave confirms it’s 10:22pm. With a frown she picks up after the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hypothetically speaking,” Clarke’s voice comes through the other side and just hearing it makes Lexa smile. She puts her pen down, focusing all her attention on the sound. “Say there’s this person you went on a date with currently standing outside your place. Would you find it charming or creepy?”

Lexa smiles and slowly stands up. “Hmm…” she ponders, walking toward her dining room window to peek through the curtains. Sure enough she sees Clarke’s silhouette standing a few feet away from her doorstep. “That depends.”

An exasperated sigh. “On what?” Clarke’s free hand has come to rest on her hip, her face up as if looking to the stars to find some patience.

“How much do I like this person?”

“Said person is unsure, but for the sake of this hypothetical situation, let’s say you do at least a little bit.”

If Lexa squints she can almost make out Clarke biting her bottom lip. It’s cute how uncertain she looks right now, and Lexa can’t help but let out an airy laugh as walks to her front door, choosing to delay her response.

“Hm. What time of the day is it? In this hypothetical situation.”

“Lexa,” Clarke all but whines, the elongated  _ a _ making Lexa chuckle. Clarke is not appreciating her teasing.

Instead of answering right away, she slowly opens the door and leans against its frame, arms crossed over her chest.

“I would say it’s charming,” she says, startling Clarke whose eyes were focused anywhere but on Lexa’s house.

“Oh, thank god,” Clarke exclaims and she genuinely sounds relieved. As if there’s any universe in which Lexa wouldn’t be glad to see her standing there.

“Come in,” Lexa motions with her hand and Clarke starts walking her way. Lexa takes a minute to appreciate the other woman as she approaches her, realizing her smile is so big her muscles have started to hurt.

She’s so glad Clarke stopped by.

“Hey,” Lexa says quietly once Clarke is close enough. She’s not sure what to do next. They ended their date with a kiss goodbye, so Lexa thinks the idea of kissing her hello isn’t that far fetched, but she doesn’t know if they’re quite there yet.

Before she has time to make up her mind, Clarke is walking into her personal space, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Hi,” Clarke says as Lexa reciprocates the hug, enjoying the way she feels against her.

Lexa feels Clarke’s grip begin to loosen as she lets go of the hug so she does the same, but is completely caught off guard when Clarke’s lips find the corner of her mouth just before she takes a step back.

Anyone could probably see her cheeks burning from a mile away. Lexa dips her head, giving Clarke a shy smile before she steps to the side, allowing Clarke to walk in.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Lexa says once they are both inside, closing the door behind her. “Would you like anything?” she has so many questions, mainly revolving around Clarke’s presence in her house. Why is she here? Not that she minds, but based on their previous conversations she didn’t know this was possible.

“Just water would be fine, thank you,” Clarke says. They both walk further into Lexa’s house, Clarke walking to the right where the living room is while Lexa walks straight ahead to the kitchen Grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and filling them with water, she then turns around only to find Clarke is still standing.

Eyebrows furrowed, Lexa walks to the living room, careful not to spill any water. “Are you okay?” she asks attentively.

Clarke’s eyes drop to the paperwork laying across the coffee table, and when she looks back at Lexa she seems unsure. “I’m sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around herself. “Were you busy? I didn’t mean to assume–” she trails off and Lexa has to try really hard not to laugh. She does smile, though, because she’s now realizing they are both being ridiculous.

Lexa with her pathetic attempt to reach out to Clarke just enough; Clarke and her impulse to come over while still being unsure of whether or not it was okay to do so.

Worried she’s leaving Clarke waiting for an answer for too long, she takes quick steps into the living room, gently placing the two glasses of water on the only part of her coffee table that isn’t covered by papers and folders. She then takes the few extra steps it takes to reach Clarke, tenderly grabbing her arms by the wrist so she can unwrap them.

“Clarke,” she says, searching blue eyes until she finds them staring back at her. “I was trying to  _ keep _ myself busy,” she says, looking over her shoulder at the mess she’s left behind in her desperate attempt to think about anything but the woman standing in front of her. “Because I wanted to see you before you left and it was driving me crazy knowing I couldn’t.”

Clarke’s entire body relaxes. She lets out a sigh, her face breaking into a smile, her shoulders dropping. “Yeah?”

Lexa nods repeatedly, taking Clarke’s right hand and leading them to the couch so they can both sit. “Of course. You’re leaving tomorrow, and ever since you dropped me off two nights ago I haven’t been able to do more than just think about you.”

The way Clarke’s cheeks redden at her words make Lexa feel like she’s soaring. “I do, however, wonder to what I owe this pleasant surprise,” she begins letting go of Clarke’s hand now that they’re both sitting on the couch, but Clarke doesn’t let her, tightening her grip around it. A moment later soft fingers are drawing circles on Lexa’s knuckles and Lexa thinks she no longer cares to know the answer, she’s just happy Clarke is here, in her house.

“I guess you haven’t really left my mind since Saturday, either,” Clarke confesses. She looks down at their joined hands, a smile playing at her lips. “I had just finished my shift at work and I was driving home, thinking about the last few things I had to pack and–” she shakes her head. “I just really,  _ really _ wanted to see you. I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving tomorrow without getting to say goodbye again.”

Lexa squeezes Clarke’s hand, her whole body erupting with joy. “I’m really happy you decided to stop by.”

“You promise it’s not an inconvenience?” Clarke eyes the coffee table one more time.

“Hey,” Lexa says softly, desperate to convince Clarke that it’s not. At all. In fact, it’s the opposite. She places her free hand under Clarke’s chin, turning her face back to her. “I swear. It’s not.”

Clarke nods, her gulp almost audible. There’s a shift in the air then, it suddenly feels heavier and Lexa can’t do more than stare at Clarke, very aware of the small circles Clarke’s thumb is still drawing on the back of her hand. Eyes locked, Lexa wonders not for the first time tonight if it would be okay to lean in and kiss Clarke.

Her answer comes in the form of blue eyes that leave hers to look at her mouth instead and before either one of them can say anything, Lexa is using their joined hands to pull Clarke to her until their lips connect. Where the last kiss they shared outside of Lexa’s front door had been jolting, but brief like a flicker, this kiss is prolonged and absolutely intoxicating. 

It’s electric and charged, so full with want it surprises them both when Clarke’s hands travel up Lexa’s arms to wrap around the back of her neck, pulling her closer. It’s not long before Clarke shifts their positions enough that she can lie down on the couch, dragging Lexa on top of her.

It reminds Lexa of their encounter from several years ago when they had watched a movie in Clarke’s apartment, except this time feels different. Like their kiss and wandering hands are carrying more meaning than she ever thought possible. There’s an understanding between them now, any signs of doubt or uncertainty of what this means gone out the window.

Sure, Clarke is leaving tomorrow and Lexa won’t see her for the next two months, but she will once she gets back. Both of those thoughts combined ignite Lexa to kiss Clarke deeper, to explore further, to taste and feel as much as she can so she can live off of it while Clarke is gone.

A moan forms deep in Clarke’s throat at the change of pace and Lexa revels in it, in the way Clarke’s whole entire body is reacting to her lips and hands. She moves her mouth to Clarke’s neck, enjoying the way Clarke tangles her fingers in her hair to push her further into her, especially when she bites or sucks on a particularly sensitive spot.

“I swear,” Clarke says between heavy breaths, “this is not what,” a deep groan, “I had in mind,” a long moan, “when I– fuck, Lexa,” her train of thought leaves her after another bite to her neck.

Lexa doesn’t reply, she doesn’t need to. She knows this isn’t what either one of them had in mind, but she doesn’t care that it’s where they’ve ended up anyway.

Needing to kiss Clarke again, Lexa moves her mouth back up her neck, softly trailing kisses on Clarke’s jawline until she can reconnect their lips. Clarke’s hands have moved from her neck down her back, finding her ass and squeezing it. Lexa is settled between Clarke’s legs and the motion makes her buck her hips, another guttural sound filling her ears. Lexa starts grinding, trying to elicit the same sound over and over, Clarke’s hip rising to meet her every move.

“God, Lexa,” Clarke says when they break their kiss. Lexa pulls back slightly, her eyes roaming over Clarke’s face and fuck, she’s so beautiful.

“Can you stay?” Lexa asks, breathless. She wants to take her time, explore every inch of Clarke’s body. A second later she’s wishing she hadn’t asked the question, because her words are breaking the spell they were momentarily lost in, the reality of their situation now clearly in the forefront of their minds.

“Dammit,” Clarke says, still breathing heavy. She leans her head back, closing her eyes, clearly frustrated. “What time is it?” she asks and Lexa can tell she’s almost bracing herself for the answer.

Lexa sighs, pushing herself off of Clarke to sit up on her knees, Clarke’s legs still on either side of her. She has to blink a couple of times to adjust her eyes until the numbers on the microwave become crisp. “Almost midnight,” she says, resigned. She knows it’s late, there’s no way Clarke can stay.

“Ugh,” Clarke groans, confirming her suspicions. “I need to get going,” she says, and regret laces her words, which serves to bring Lexa a small consolation.

They untangle themselves until they can finally sit up on the couch, both of them sitting side by side, slightly out of breath and disheveled. After a few minutes, Lexa can feel Clarke’s eyes on her, so she turns her head to find Clarke looking at her with a smile on her face.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” she says, reaching over to place a hand on Lexa’s thigh.

“Me too,” Lexa replies, covering Clarke’s hand with her own. “But I’m glad you came.”

Clarke snorts, then says, “I actually didn’t, but–” and Lexa soon realizes the double entendre. She laughs, shaking her head.

“I can still do something about that,” Lexa says, wagging her eyebrows..

“No. I’m not pulling a Lexa and waking up two hours before my flight in someone else’s bed,” she teases and Lexa gasps.

“How dare you use my name as a verb.”

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says, giving Lexa the cutest pout. “Please forgive me,” and she sounds innocent almost, except her hand has begun sliding up Lexa’s thigh and if she doesn’t stop now she will end up pulling a Lexa.

Gathering the very little self-control she has left, Lexa grips Clarke’s hand and picks it up, effectively disconnecting it from her thigh. “If you want to have any chance at all of leaving tonight, you better get out now,” she warns and loves the way Clarke seems to consider it for a second, biting on her bottom lip as she seriously weighs her options.

Her sense of responsibility seems to win in the end, though, because she lets out an exasperated sigh before nodding and standing up. “Fine,” she says. She runs her hand through blonde locks, straightening them out and then moving to do the same with her clothes. “But let it be known,” she continues, walking to stand in front of Lexa who now has to strain her neck backward to look at her, “that you,” she says, walking her pointer and middle finger up Lexa’s chest, “will be the first thing I’ll be doing when I get back.”

Lexa sits there, mouth agape, willing her brain to work. She’s not very successful, the image of Clarke ‘doing her’ invading her mind.

Clarke’s chuckle breaks her from her reverie. “Come on, see me out,” she says and Lexa is so mad at her. Clarke knows exactly the effect she has on her and is using it against her. But she can’t do anything about it when Clarke is looking at her with a face full of promise, so she takes the hand Clarke has extended her way, standing up and following her to the front door.

“I don’t know if I’ll have any signal at all while I’m gone,” Clarke says once they’ve stepped outside. “If you don’t hear from me for the next two months, don’t worry. I’ll be safe and sound, and I’ll let you know as soon as I’m back,” she reassures her.

“I’ll be here waiting,” Lexa promises. “Now go before I drag you back inside and keep you in my bedroom forever.”

Clarke bites her lip at that, her eyes darkening, like maybe she doesn’t mind the thought of that all. “Fine,” she relents eventually. She takes a step toward Lexa, pulling her in to place a lingering kiss on her lips before pulling away. “But maybe after I get back?” she asks with a smirk and Lexa swears she won’t make it out alive.

“Be safe, Clarke,” Lexa says to her retreating form, allowing her eyes to travel the whole expanse of Clarke’s body, her eyes lingering on her backside for an additional minute. She watches as Clarke gets into her car, waving at her when Clarke rolls down her window to do the same.

Once she’s disappeared into the night, Lexa walks back into her house, taking a deep breath to try and calm down the beating of her heart and the throbbing between her legs. She gets ready for bed, feeling uncomfortably dissatisfied, but extremely excited for what’s to come, even if she has to wait two months to get there.

Half an hour later, just as she’s ready to put her phone away for the night she receives one last text from Clarke.

**Clarke [12:27am]:** _I’m gonna miss you_

She doesn’t even have to think twice before replying.

**Lexa [12:27am]:** _Me too, Clarke. Safe travels, I can’t wait until you’re back_

And she really, really can’t.

::::

Time is a funny thing. It’s constant, always. Every day has twenty-four hours, every hour sixty minutes, every minute sixty seconds, yet it has the ability to appear inconsistent, sometimes going by in a flash, while others it’s an excruciating wait.

Lexa has been stuck between the two juxtapositions for the past eight weeks. She has always been good at keeping busy, she enjoys her work enough that burying herself in it isn’t really a problem. So she has been working long hours and taking more cases than she can probably handle just to give her something else to do besides stare at the calendar that sits on her desk or at the date on her phone whenever she picks it up.

Her day-to-day goes by fast, but the collective seems to be stretching out unnecessarily. She doesn’t hear from Clarke for three whole weeks after their last encounter, only managing to get a quick text from her that seemed like it had been sitting in Clarke’s messaging app for a while before her phone had finally picked up on enough signal to share its contents with Lexa’s.

A month in and she gets a picture. It’s of Clarke and her mom and a bunch of strangers, both kids and adults. Lexa can kind of make out what looks like hospital beds in the background and can only assume the people in the picture are a mix of coworkers and patients. It warms her heart, to see Clarke’s face and how happy she looks. The image had been accompanied by a message saying they had gone to the nearest city to get more supplies and had finally received enough bars to send the picture.

Two weeks before Clarke’s supposed arrival she receives her final successful attempt at contact. It’s a video of Clarke where she’s smiling brightly at the camera, telling Lexa that she’s been working hard, but seeing progress in her patients. Then she had gone quiet, pulling that bottom lip Lexa has often daydreamed of between her lips before saying ‘ _ I miss you. I can’t wait to see you _ ’.

It had turned Lexa into a puddle of jelly, so much so that Anya had decided to walk out of their planned afternoon together right there and then.

“I’m not going to stay just so I can stare at your heart eyes all day,” she had said, and Lexa had been too focused replying the video to care.

(She had texted Anya later to apologize, but Anya had just brushed it off, saying she knew she had lost Lexa to Clarke even after that first encounter at the bar.)

Clarke’s return date had been a ballpark and Lexa knew she was arriving somewhere within the next couple of days, but wasn’t sure exactly when. That uncertainty made the wait even worse. While for the past two months she’s been missing Clarke terribly, she knew what the countdown looked like. Eight weeks, seven weeks, six weeks. Now it was down to days, or maybe hours, but how many?

The anticipation was driving her crazy.

Another work week has come to an end and Lexa’s wrapping up at the office when her phone vibrates in her pocket. Her heart has been skipping a beat each time it does that for the last couple of days, but she tells it to calm down. So far no notification has been from Clarke, and she doesn’t think this time will be the exception.

The message is from an unknown number, which confirms her previous thought. She scans her eyes over it, frowning at the cryptic message.

**Unknown Number (4:48pm):** _ AA 6188 _

She’s about to ignore it assuming it’s from a wrong number when the next message comes through.

**Unknown Number (4:48pm):** _ Clarke arrives tomorrow at around 5:30pm _

**Unknown Number (4:48pm):** _ She asked me to pick her and her mom up, but she won’t shut up about you _

**Unknown Number (4:49pm):** _ I’m sure she’d much rather see you at the airport than me _

**Unknown Number (4:49pm):** _ Which is pretty rude, let me tell you, but whatever _

**Unknown Number (4:49pm):** _ This is Raven, by the way _

_ Ah. _ It finally clicks. Lexa quickly adds her number to her contacts. She doesn’t have time to reply before Raven is messaging her again.

**Raven (4:50pm):** _ If you can’t make it that’s fine, just let me know before tomorrow morning _

The option of picking Clarke up at the airport is a no-brainer, even if Lexa is slightly nervous at the prospect of her mom being there too. She doesn’t let herself wonder how awkward it will be, choosing to focus instead on the fact that she’ll get to see Clarke as soon as her feet land back in town.

**Lexa (4:51pm):** _ I can make it _

Her heart is going crazy in her chest and Lexa almost feels the need to place her hand over it to calm it down. Clarke’s arriving tomorrow. That’s almost twenty-four hours from now.

**Raven (4:52pm):** _ Awesome! Give her a hug for me and if you can please record her face when she sees you because I’m pretty sure she’s going to die _

Lexa laughs at the thought and also feels a little satisfaction in knowing Clarke has probably been blabbering about her to her friend much like Lexa has done to Anya. 

**Lexa (4:52pm):** _ Thanks, Raven. I appreciate it _

Putting her phone away, she starts gathering all the files she wanted to take home for the weekend. She doesn’t think her brain will let her do much more than think about Clarke until she sees her at the airport tomorrow, but she brings it just in case. If there’s any chance her work can distract her until then she’ll take it.

::::

The airport is busy on this Saturday afternoon and Lexa has to navigate through a sea of bodies and luggage before she can find the screen with the list of Departures and Arrivals. She stands by it, scanning it to figure out which carrousel Clarke and her mom will be heading to after they get off the plane.

It’s 5:30pm, Clarke’s plane is scheduled to arrive seven minutes later, but once Lexa’s eyes land on the correct flight number she realizes it has already landed. She takes a deep, shaky breath to try and calm her nerves down, but she’s unsuccessful, her heart still beating wildly against her chest.

The screen indicates Baggage Claim number fourteen is where they will end up and that’s where Lexa goes next. She’s close to number twenty five, so she follows the carousels as the numbers change in descending order until she’s standing within eyeshot of the conveyor belt. Bags have begun showing up and people have started filling in, which means Clarke will show up any minute now.

Lexa finds her before Clarke has even a chance to look for their bags. She’s walking from the opposite side, heading straight for the carousel. She’s carrying a hiking bag on her back and she’s more tanned than she was before she left, her almost golden skin highlighting her features, making her blue eyes stand out even more than usual. Even her hair looks brighter and suddenly Lexa feels an impossible pull toward the other woman.

Her feet are moving almost out of their own volition, but she doesn’t care enough to stop them. Heart pumping blood to every part of her body, she’s taking step after step in Clarke’s direction. Clarke’s too engrossed in whatever conversation she’s having with her mom to notice, even when Lexa is only a few feet away. She stops then, wondering what her next move should be. Should she just stand there and call her name? Approach her?

They have now moved closer to the belt, on the lookout for their bags, so Lexa decides to walk around until she’s standing behind them. She takes a deep breath, as discreetly as possible, before she taps Clarke’s shoulder.

This almost reminds her of her other encounters with Clarke, where she’s been so overwhelmed by her presence that Lexa can’t even believe she’s lucky enough to be standing in front of her.

Clarke turns around, eyebrows furrowed. They stay that way for a second as she registers who just tried getting her attention, but then it clicks and her eyes get impossible big.

“Lexa,” she says, breathless. There’s a weird dissonance between her body language and her voice. Her name is said in an almost-whisper, barely any excitement behind it. But her body– her body seems to be thrumming with contained energy. Blue eyes are shining, a wide smile spreading across her lips, arms tensing as if trying to stop the implosion that’s coursing through her.

Lexa stands there expectantly, until Clarke’s emotions catch up with the rest of her. And when they do she shrieks Lexa’s name again, letting go of all curbed energy as she lunches forward, wrapping her arms around Lexa’s neck. Lexa stumbles back for a couple of steps due to the force of the impact, but manages to catch them both. Wrapping her arms around Clarke is nearly impossible due to the bag that’s still propped up her shoulders, so Lexa settles for placing her hands on Clarke’s hips, gripping and pulling her closer.

“I’m so glad to see you,” Clarke whispers as she buries her head in Lexa’s neck. “Fuck, I’ve missed you,” she says, taking a deep breath and Lexa almost dies on the spot.

The whole encounter seems surreal, almost two months of pent-up anticipation culminating in this one moment and Lexa wouldn’t change it for the world. “Me too, Clarke,” she whispers, pulling back enough to look into blue eyes, making sure this is real and not just a dream. “Me too,” she repeats, smiling. They stand there, staring at each other, and Lexa thought she’d be able to wait until they were somewhere less public to kiss her, but fuck it. She can’t wait, so she dips her head, about to kiss Clarke, the smallest of sighs brushing her lips as Clarke closes her eyes–

“Ahem,” the sound of a throat being cleared next to them makes both of them jump and it’s only then that Lexa remembers she wasn’t only picking up Clarke, but her mom as well.

This is embarrassing, she thinks, cheeks already reddening at her lack of control.

“H-hi, Dr. Griffin,” Lexa says, taking a step away from her daughter for good measure, finally dropping the hands that had been firmly gripping Clarke’s hips.

“Please call me Abby,” she repeats, much like she had years ago. She’s smiling, looking at her curiously. “Nice to see you again, Lexa. My daughter has told me all about you.”

Lexa casts a sideways glance in Clarke’s direction. Her cheeks have turned a light shade of pink and it’s adorable, especially when it’s accompanied by Clarke’s sharp “Mom!”.

Abby laughs, shaking her head. “I think I saw our bags already, would you guys mind helping me grab them?”

“Of course,” Lexa says, jumping into action. Abby describes the bags and Lexa begins searching for a black one with a green ribbon on it’s handle as well as a red one with a tag hanging from the side. Once they’ve managed to drag them both out of the carousel they begin their walk to Lexa’s car, Lexa offering to take Clarke’s bag as well, which she gratefully passes on to her.

A hand slides into her own, fingers intertwining as Clarke starts walking closely by her side. “How did you know when to pick me up?” she asks her.

“Raven told me,” Lexa says, amazed at her ability to actually form a coherent sentence. Clarke’s hand in hers feels like heaven and she didn’t know she could be dead and talk at the same time.

“I’m going to have to send her a gift basket or something,” Clarke says with a smile and Lexa nods.

“I’ll pay for half,” Lexa replies, just as grateful at Raven’s brilliant idea.

“Stop forgetting I’m here, please,” Abby says from Clarke’s side and Lexa’s steps falter. She really needs to be better at remembering Clarke’s mom is still with them. “You’ll drop me off soon enough,” she says with a warm smile.

The hold on her hand never loosens, but they are better at including Abby in their conversation and by the time they reach her car it’s mostly Clarke and Abby telling her about all the things they did during their two months abroad.

The ride to Abby’s house is fine as long as Lexa doesn’t focus on Clarke’s hand on her thigh, especially when it starts inching upwards. She has to swat it a couple of times so she can focus on what Abby is saying and each time Clarke giggles and it makes her swoon.

She’s so far gone it’s not even funny.

If Lexa thought the drive to Abby’s house was hard, getting to their next destination is even harder. As soon as Clarke’s mom leaves the car after a tired goodbye Clarke turns to look at her, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. Lexa is sure that if she could read Clarke’s thoughts she probably would find very filthy ones right about now if the way she’s looking at her is any indication.

“Where to now?” she croaks.

“Take me to your place, Lex,” Clarke says and she’s not sure if it’s the words or the nickname that kills her.

::::

It’s almost 7pm by the time they reach her house. Clarke’s energy has began dwindling down, the excitement of her encounter with Lexa being replaced by the tiredness of a day-long plane ride. Clarke tries to stifle another yawn just as they walk into Lexa’s house and it’s adorable how tired she has become.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to your house instead?” Lexa offers. She wants to be with Clarke, but if she’s tired and needs to get some rest she can wait. Clarke shakes her head while yawning again.

“No, I’m fine. I want to be with you,” she says. Lexa smiles at that, placing Clarke’s bags on the floor by the dining room table.

“Are you hungry?” Lexa asks, searching her brain for things she could put together. She wasn’t expecting their final destination to be her own house so she hadn’t fully prepared, but her kitchen is well stocked enough that she can prepare something.

Clarke nods, dragging her feet further into Lexa’s house. “Yeah, a little.”

Lexa walks by her on her way to the kitchen, placing a soft kiss on her temple when she’s close enough. “Make yourself comfortable. Would you like to shower while I make us something?”

Another nod. Clarke’s so groggy she can barely manage to say anything. Lexa smiles.

“I’ll get you towels and a clean set of clothes. Follow me,” she says, taking Clarke’s hand and guiding her to her bathroom. She turns on the faucet, letting the water run until it warms up while she goes to her closet to grab an extra set of towels, plus a t-shirt and shorts for Clarke to wear once she’s done.

When she walks back into the bathroom it’s to an underwear-clad Clarke. The rest of her clothes is bunched up on the floor and Lexa’s breath hitches at the sight of Clarke’s almost bare backside.

“Uh…” Lexa says, clearing her throat. “Sorry, I just wanted to drop–”

She doesn’t know if it’s Clarke’s tired state or the fact that Lexa has already seen her completely naked before, but Clarke doesn’t seem to care that Lexa is standing there. She turns around when she hears Lexa’s voice, now her front in full display and Lexa has to avert her eyes before she gets lost staring at Clarke’s chest.

“Anyway, here they are, I’ll go make food,” she says in a hurry, placing the items on top of the sink.

Clarke grasps her wrist before she can step away and Lexa doesn’t know what to do with herself anymore. “Thank you,” Clarke whispers, pulling Lexa to her. “I’ll be out as soon as I’m done,” she says, leaning in to kiss Lexa’s cheek.

“Take your time,” she manages to say before turning around. And Clarke may be tired, but that knowing smirk is fully in place by the time Lexa shuts the door behind her.

The shower seems to only make Clarke feel more tired and relaxed, which Lexa expected. They share the meal she prepared mostly in silence, Clarke’s appetite keeping her busy. By the time they are finished, Clarke’s eyelids are closing and Lexa swears she almost dozes off right there and then.

“Hey,” Lexa says softly, trying not to startle a maybe already asleep Clarke. “Why don’t you go lie down?” she asks Clarke, reaching over to rub her arm.

“No,” Clarke grumbles. “I’m fine,” she says, obviously trying to keep her eyes open, but they close again a second later.

“Clarke, c’mon,” Lexa says, getting up. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Now you’re talking, Woods,” Clarke says, the use of her last name surprising Lexa. She didn’t think she remembered.

Lexa laughs, shaking her head. She won’t even bother correcting the misinterpretation of her words. Even if that’s what she meant, there’s no way Clarke will be awake after her head hits the pillow. So instead she reaches for her hand one more time, helping her stand up and guiding Clarke to her bedroom.

Once there she pulls the comforter back, letting Clarke sit on her bed before softly pushing her until she’s lying down. All protest dies on her lips as soon as her head hits the pillow, and soon enough she’s just burying herself in it.

“Hmm,” she mumbles. “Smells like you,” Clarke says with a smile on her face. Lexa kneels down next to her, grabbing the edge of the comforter to pull it over Clarke’s body as she finishes settling in. “Sleep well, Clarke,” Lexa whispers against her head when she leans down to place a soft kiss. She’s pretty sure Clarke’s fast asleep before she even finishes her sentence.

It’s barely past 8pm now and Lexa isn’t tired yet, so she decides to go back to the living room, pulling out her laptop to focus on work while Clarke sleeps peacefully in her room.

::::

She doesn’t know how long she’s been asleep for when she feels a light touch drawing circles on her hip. Lexa had made her way into the bedroom sometime before midnight, hoping Clarke won’t mind when she wakes up next to her in the morning.

Eyes still closed, she focuses her attention on the soft pattern, wondering if she’s dreaming, but it’s consistent and she’s pretty sure it’s not just in her imagination. She blinks a few times, trying to get her brain to wake up as well as the rest of her body.

The room is still dark. It must be the middle of the night still, a very faint moonlight making its way through the window, but once her vision adjusts to the lack of light small details start coming into view. She’s lying on her side and one of the first things she sees is Clarke on her side too, looking at her intently.

“Lexa?” she whispers quietly. She looks more rested now and Lexa smiles, trying hard not to pinch herself just to confirm she’s really not dreaming this.

“Hey,” she responds just as quiet.

Clarke’s motion on her hip stops, but her hand remains in place. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s okay,” Lexa says. They’re still talking barely above a whisper, like they are afraid of getting caught. “Is everything okay?”

Lexa feels Clarke nod against the pillow. “My brain is still like, ten hours ahead, so it thinks it’s probably early afternoon and now I’m wide awake,” she says sheepishly, burying her face further into the pillow. “I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“No need to apologize,” Lexa reassures her. She’s still sleepy enough to not be calculating her every move, so she doesn’t think when she moves her hand up to push loose strands of hair behind Clarke’s ear before settling her hand against her cheek. Clarke’s eyes flutter at the touch and Lexa smiles. “It’ll probably take you at least a week to get used to our timezone again.”

“Yeah. It was hard getting used to it going there, but I’ve heard for some reason it’s even harder coming back.”

Lexa nods in agreement. “Yeah, I had a hard time when I came back from Australia, too.”

Clarke smiles then, her fingers back to playing with Lexa’s hip and it’s doing wonders to wake her up completely. Her skin is starting to tingle, but she tries her hardest not to let the innocent touch affect her. Lexa moves her hand from Clarke’s face, down her arm and side until it’s resting on her hip, much like Clarke’s on her own.

“Can you believe that was like six years ago?” Lexa asks, amazed at everything they’ve done and accomplished since then, and yet they landed in the exact same place.

“I know,” Clarke says. Her touch has began wandering, traveling from her hip up under her shirt, fingertips grazing her ribcage. Lexa takes an involuntary breath. Clarke’s movement stops for a second, like she’s surprised at Lexa’s reaction, but then a playful smile tugs at her lips.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Clarke asks, but Lexa knows she doesn’t want her to. She knows because she’s moving her hand again, letting fingertips slide over every single rib, slowly, teasingly. It almost makes Lexa squirm.

“Clarke,” Lexa croaks.

“Yeah?” Clarke asks into the dark bedroom, her hand sliding up, her thumb brushing the underside of her breast.

Whatever thought Lexa has completely escapes her then. They lie in silence, but it’s so quiet Lexa’s breath is increasingly becoming more prominent as it gets heavier. Clarke’s hand hasn’t stopped exploring, her touch barely present, but enough to elicit goosebumps where it roams.

Lexa’s nipples have perked, she can feel the taut pull on the sensitive skin around it. Wetness has began pooling between her legs, her breathing only getting more and more erratic with each stroke of Clarke’s hand. She moves it closer to the middle now, her palm brushing the erect bundle of nerves and Lexa inhales through her nose, holding her breath.

Her name whispered in the dark does impossible things to her and she has to clasp her mouth shut to stop the moan from escaping her lips. She closes her eyes, trying to control herself. Control her beating heart, her elaborate breathing, the throbbing between her legs.

It’s all in vain when Clarke whispers, “I want you,” and Lexa’s resolve to keep her struggle to herself is gone, her body betraying her once more when Clarke’s hand squeezes her breast and Lexa moans, loud and deep, her chest pushing forward, her legs tightening to provide the pressure she needs between them.

Lexa doesn’t even have the time to say anything else, her reaction to Clarke’s touch probably the only confirmation she needed before she moves her hand away and scoots closer, until their bodies are flushed together.

They are now so close that Clarke’s breathing is tickling her lips and Lexa involuntarily parts them, preparing herself for the kiss that’s about to come.

She’s waited two months to be able to kiss her again, and when she does, it's like fireworks explode all around her. The hand she still had on Clarke’s hip grips it harder, pulling her closer and Clarke takes advantage of the momentum, pushing Lexa onto her back and climbing on top.

Their lips never separating, Clarke lies with one leg between Lexa’s and the other on the outside of her left leg. Lexa lifts it just a little, enough to put pressure and can’t help the moan that forms deep in her throat when she feels how wet Clarke is even through her shorts as she grinds against Lexa’s leg.

Cursing under her breath, Lexa moves one hand to the back of Clarke’s head, entangling fingers in her hair to pull her closer. She takes Clarke’s bottom lip between her teeth, sucking and pulling, enjoying the way it makes Clarke grind against her leg harder, faster.

Shifting her weight to her right side, Clarke now has enough room to slide her hand between their bodies and she wastes no time reaching under Lexa’s shorts, groaning as soon as her fingers come in contact with Lexa’s center. She’s so wet, she knew this already, but feeling Clarke’s fingers slide so easily inside of her confirm exactly how much.

Part of Clarke’s hand is pushing down on her clit, providing enough pressure every time she pushes her fingers inside of her and Lexa has never felt herself so close to an orgasm so quickly. Soon enough she’s panting, moving her hips along with every thrust of Clarke’s hand and each time it puts much desired pressure on her clit.

“Fuck, shit, Clarke, I’m–” she doesn’t even get to finish her words, her orgasm taking even her completely by surprise as it rocks her entire body. Clarke picks up her speed then, moving her hand faster and she rides it for as long as she can, her screams the only thing she can hear.

Clarke senses when she’s done, finally slowing down, helping Lexa come down from her high. She removes her hand then and leans down to kiss her thoroughly. By the time she pulls away, Lexa isn’t sure if her mind is blurry because of the kiss or the sex, but assumes it’s probably a mix of both.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” Lexa says, still trying to go back to breathing normally.

“I could tell,” she says with a teasing smile, but then her expression turns serious. “I really did miss you,” she says.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed you,” Lexa says and decides now is the right time to show her. With Clarke’s legs still on each side of her own, she lifts it up again, reaching for the same spot as before. She’s surprised to feel it’s even more wet against her skin now, the thought of Clarke getting even more turned on after fucking her making her dizzy all over again.

She lets Clarke grind against her leg again until she can sense her frustration when she repeats her name over and over, her face is buried in her neck. It’s then that she uses her body to push Clarke off of her, onto her side and then her back.

Lexa moves on top of her, legs on each side of Clarke’s hips. She’s mesmerized by the sight in front of her, blonde hair spread across her bed, chest heaving, dark blue eyes staring back at her. She wants Clarke, all of her.

She starts by sliding her hands under Clarke’s shirt, lifting it as she goes until her breasts are exposed. Her body is bathed in a soft light and Lexa takes a moment to appreciate it, every inch of her. She then takes Clarke’s breasts in her hands, squeezing, kneading, enjoying the noises coming from Clarke every time she does. She finds perked nipples and takes them between her fingers, flicking, pinching, pulling, until Clarke begins moving her hips and it’s almost like Lexa’s riding her now.

Moving her hands away from Clarke’s chest after she’s paid enough attention to it, she places them on each side of Clarke, leaning down to kiss her. She slots her body between Clarke’s legs, pushing in as they kiss, hungry and desperate.

Lexa can feel her own arousal coming back already, but she pushes it aside, ignoring it to focus on Clarke’s instead. She moves to kiss her neck, her ear, her jawline. She peppers her skin with kisses, committing every sound, every movement to memory. Keeping track of each sensitive spot, of everything she does to make Clarke moan or squirm or suck in her breath.

She moves to lie on her side now so she can have enough room to slide her hand down Clarke’s body. She loves the way her stomach twitches when her hand glides over it, her touch almost imperceptible. She tugs at her shorts, smiling when Clarke immediately lifts her hips enough for Lexa to push them down and off with Clarke’s help.

Giving Clarke one last look she brings her finger between wet folds, running it up and down. She feels her clit, hard and ready and she spends a few seconds there, drawing slow circles around it. Painfully slow. Clarke’s breath hitches every few minutes, her body tensing, but each time the pressure is not enough, the rhythm isn’t fast enough so she relaxes, breathing through her nose.

“Lexa, please,” she begs and Lexa wants to give her what she wants, but she also wants to savor this moment as much as she can.

“Just a little bit longer, Clarke,” she whispers and Clarke nods, spreading her legs wider when she feels Lexa’s finger moving down again. This time she pushes it in, Clarke’s loud moan echoing around them. She’s still gentle, slow. Her movements are still not enough, Lexa knows, because Clarke is bucking her hips, at one point she even reaches down to grab her hand, begging her.

“Harder, faster.”

It gets to a point where any move, no matter how small, brings Clarke close enough to the edge. And she knows it’s time to let her go, so Lexa slowly slides a second finger in, accommodating her hand so her thumb can rub Clarke’s impossibly harder clit as she begins moving faster and harder inside her.

It doesn’t take long after that, just a few strokes and Clarke is coming, loud and hard, so hard her upper body lifts off the bed and her arms cling around Lexa as she shakes and rides her orgasm until there’s nothing left.

She lets go then, breathless, and lies back down. She’s smiling, her eyes shining bright, although they’ve begun closing, her trip catching up to her again.

“That was amazing,” Clarke whispers into Lexa’s hair as she settles against her side once Lexa lies on her back. Lexa wraps her arms around her, bringing her closer, enjoying the way Clarke feels as she wraps her leg and arm around her.

It was, she thinks, but doesn’t say it outloud because Clarke’s already asleep once again. Sunlight has began filtering through the window and Lexa thinks the sun may rise soon, but she falls asleep before it does.

::::

A fresh cup of coffee is brewing the next morning as Lexa goes about the kitchen, making eggs, bacon and pancakes. She woke up sometime after 9am with Clarke still wrapped around her and she had lied there completely still for as long as she could, enjoying the way the other woman felt against her until her bladder couldn’t take it anymore and she had to get up to pee.

After that she had thrown sweatpants and a hoodie on and had padded to her kitchen to make breakfast so it would be ready by the time Clarke woke up.

“I knew I smelled something,” Clarke says. She’s coming from her bedroom wearing the same clothes Lexa had given her yesterday and it does all sorts of things to her to see Clarke wearing her old shirt and shorts. They look so much better on Clarke than they ever did on Lexa.

But she may be biased.

“Breakfast’s ready,” Lexa says with a warm smile, splitting the food into two plates that she brings over to the dining room table. “You hungry?” she asks as she sits down, placing their food in front of her and the chair beside her, joining the steaming cups of coffee she had already left there.

Clarke nods and Lexa learns then that Clarke’s always somehow hungry. Clarke sits down, not without pressing a kiss on top of Lexa’s head first.

“You spoil me,” she says before she yawns. “First you make me dinner while letting me take a delicious, hot shower. Then you fuck me. And then you make me breakfast. I think I may keep you,” Clarke says, smiling at her and reaching over to take her hand.

“If that’s all I have to do to keep you happy, sign me up,” Lexa says before she takes a sip of her coffee.

They eat in relative silence at first, the only noises filling the house are those of them chewing their food and Clarke’s humming after a particularly enjoyable bite. Then, once she’s more awake, she begins telling Lexa more about her time in Africa, all the people she got to meet and how fulfilled she feels to have helped others the way she did.

“I’m glad,” Lexa says as they are finishing their food. She gathers the empty plates, bringing them over to the sink. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t wish you hadn’t gone, but that was me being selfish. I’m actually glad you got to experience that.” She has her back turned to Clarke as she rinses the dishes, doesn’t realize she’s standing right behind her until she feels arms being wrapped around her, Clarke’s hands pressed against her stomach.

“I know,” she whispers into Lexa’s shoulder where she places a kiss. “But now I’m back,” she says and Lexa can almost feel the pull of her lips against her skin. “And I’m not going anywhere,” she adds. Her hands have began moving, her left upward to cup Lexa’s breast while her right moves down, under her shorts. Lexa has to drop the sponge and hold on to the sink before her legs completely give out.

“I am, though,” she says and Clarke’s hands freeze in place. Lexa bites her lip, regretting the timing of her confession.

“What?” Clarke asks. Lexa is thankful she at least hasn’t stepped away. “When?” she begins to then, but Lexa brings her hands to Clarke’s arms, keeping her in place.

“Next month,” she says.

“Lexa– what– why didn’t you–,” she sighs. “How long?” she asks finally, exasperated at her own lack of complete sentences.

“Overnight,” Lexa chuckles, choosing to put Clarke out of her misery. “I have to visit a client a couple of cities over, but I’ll be back the next day.”

She laughs when Clarke wiggles out of her hold and turns around to find Clarke glaring at her. “You’re not funny, you know?” she asks her.

Lexa smirks. “I don’t know, I’m pretty hilarious,” she says, taking a step closer.

“For real, though,” Clarke says, expression somber. “You’re not going anywhere? Like, for long periods of time?”

Lexa shakes her head, reaching over to wrap her arms around Clarke. “No,” she says. “Not unless you’re coming with me.”

Clarke looks at her, bright smile reaching her eyes. “Promise?”

Lexa nods, leaning in to kiss her softly. “I swear.”

And it’s true. She’s wasted enough time being without her, so she decides right there and then, with Clarke in her arms and their lips pressed together, that no matter what she won’t go anywhere unless Clarke is by her side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As some of you maybe have noticed, this story is now finished. This is how I always picture it ending, since I think they've been tortured enough and it's time they enjoy their life together :)
> 
> I will say though, if it feels like the end is too empty and you're interested in an epilogue of some sort, let me know. I swear this isn't me fishing for comments, I just genuinely wouldn't like people who have spent time and energy following this story to feel like I'm doing them a disservice by ending it the way I did/where I did. I could add one more chapter if people are interested and want to see a bigger conclusion to it. Otherwise I will move on to the next one :)
> 
> Thanks for reading chapter after chapter and for leaving comments. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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